TTJE 

fed^Ejtp'JlERiEs 



33 



^cllsh rassics 



l&pSlise 1 ost 



P^ 



BOO^S I; AND 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

Chap. ... CopyrighFNo. , 

ShellJ.^.^ b 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



gUz Mxx&K\xt& 7 MzxUs of %\%%Xxs\i ©lassies. 

MILTON'S 

PARADISE LOST 



Books I and II 



EDITED 

WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

BY 

ALBERT S. COOK, 

Professor of the English Language and Literature 
in Yale University 




LEACH, SHEWELL, & SANBORN, 

BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO. 



k 



f^ 






Copyright, 1896, 
By Leach, Sheavell, & Sanbokx. 



/Z-3t}ff 



C. J. Peters & Son, Typographers. 



Berwick & Smith, Printers. 



PREFACE. 



The purpose of this edition is to promote the enjoyment of 
Milton's poetry through study of a selection which, by its 
excellence of every sort, will reward prolonged attention. 
Through study, not through mere reading ; for the editor does 
not share the opinion of those who hold that the study of 
the best literature is fatal to enjoyment. < All men,' says 
Aristotle — and we shall hardly find a more competent 
judge — ' all men by nature desire to know.' If the appe- 
tite for knowledge is inborn in every human being, study, 
which is the process of acquiring knowledge, can only be 
distasteful when it has artificially been rendered so. There 
are those who concede this in general, who yet make an 
exception of literature ; but it is difficult to see why the 
highest form of expression of which the human soul is capa- 
ble should less repay study by enjoyment than the grass of 
the field or the rocks of the mine. On this point I am glad 
to find myself in substantial accord with that veteran and 
universally respected teacher of English, Professor March, of 
Lafayette College. He believes, as I also do, in the more 
rapid reading of certain books, especially during the elemen- 
tary stages of an English course, according to a method that 
he suggests in The Independent for August 4, 1892. He 
says, among oilier things : < The teacher may have select pas- 
sages read in class, read them or have them read with care 

iii 



IV PREFACE. 

and expression, to bring out their thought and feeling. A 
pupil who is a good reader will often stimulate a whole class 
wonderfully. Comment and criticism should be used mainly 
for pointing out beauties and exciting admiration ; passages 
may be committed to memory. In this way fondness for 
reading and for good books may be induced.' 

All this is well, and most teachers would agree with him. 
But he does not stop here, and proceeds to urge an advance 
beyond such admirable beginnings. He would have great 
literature more deeply understood than is possible through 
such processes as have been sketched above. < We must 
learn,' he says, 'to speak and write English; then we must 
study it in the seats of its power, in the great English authors. 
Early rapid reading gives us words without definition. We 
get the denotation of names of common material objects and 
acts somewhere near right, but without knowing their mean- 
ing, their connotation. Abstract terms and names of com- 
plex conceptions and idioms float vaguely through the mind. 
There is no more delightful discipline than that of clearing 
up these vague notions, defining them and nailing them down 
with their words, so as to make the scholar confident master 
of his thought. This is the preparation for all progress in 
advanced thinking or for original writing. It is because stu- 
dents of Latin and Greek are more thoroughly trained in this 
discipline than others that they so often show superior com- 
mand of thought and style to others.' 

Again, he advocates the < study of English words in English 
literature, just as the Greeks acquired their Greek by the 
study of Greek. Demosthenes studied Thucydides. Johnson 
tells the student of English style to spend his days and nights 
upon Addison. Franklin formed his admirable style in that 
way, reading good passages in the Spectator, then after a 



PREFACE. V 

time writing out the thoughts as well as he could, and com- 
paring his work with Addison's, word by word, and studying 
all. John Bright formed his powerful oratory by English 
studies. Thousands of lesser lights have trimmed their lamps, 
such as Nature has furnished them, in the same fashion.' 

He does not even shrink from employing the terms ' gram- 
mar ' and < philology,' though it is clear that he does not be- 
lieve that all teaching of grammar and philology is promotive 
of literary enjoyment, since he speaks of a ' highest kind of 
philological study,' and distinguishes this from lower kinds 
by noting that its fruit is love for the thing studied : < It is a 
matter of course that thorough grammatical and philological 
study should be given to such a work if one finds it congenial. 
" The Scripture cannot be understood theologically," says 
Melanchthon, " unless it be first understood grammatically." 
Men of one book, men who give much of their time to chew- 
ing and digesting some favorite volumes, have always been 
marked men. Genius broods ever. Luther called Galatians 
his wife. What apparatus of grammars, dictionaries, concord- 
ances, cyclopaedias, have those who love the Bible made for 
the study of it, what commentaries of every kind, what long- 
continued studies of supreme passages ! What mastery of 
Bible English is obtained by this study, and what love of it! 
And this is a type of the highest kind of philological study. 
In this way Homer has been made near and dear to thousands, 
and Socrates, and Dante, and Shakespeare. There must be a 
great character behind the words of great literature. Then 
for profound and worthy admiration we must have profound 
study long continued and often repeated. Philological study 
used as a means of clearing up, enriching, and impressing our 
apprehension of the thought and style, makes the student 
rejoice in them and remember them forever. The English 



VI PREFACE. 

masters ought to he studied in the same way as the great 
ancients.' 

To the same effect is a recent utterance by Professor 
Thomas R. Price, of Columbia College (Educational Review, 
January, 1896) : ' And so, for the teaching of literature itself, 
its separation from the teaching of language is altogether 
pernicious. It leads to careless habits of reading, to false 
thinking, to self-deception, to that bungling and smattering 
which rob education of its real value. For the true study 
of literature is the study, not of theories about relations of 
history and philosophy and aesthetics, but of the meaning 
and significance of the great works of literature themselves. 
And the meaning of the text is so inwoven with the language 
that expresses it, as to make all study of literature except 
through knowledge of language delusive and fallacious.' 

The present edition is an attempt to illustrate a method 
of English study as applied to a literary masterpiece. A 
method, not the method ; for the editor will readily concede 
that the same result may be attained in a variety of ways. 
Such as the book is, a few of its features may be pointed 
out. 

Milton has been made his own interpreter. With regard to 
his theory of the poetic art, his own aim in writing, and the 
preparation by which he qualified himself for his wonderful 
achievement, he is allowed to speak for himself. The Intro- 
duction contains the passages from his prose works which are 
most constantly laid under tribute by editors and biographers 
for the illustration of Milton's life and ideals ; but perhaps 
they are most eloquent and convincing when freed from an- 
cillary paraphrase and comment. For the interpretation of 
individual words and phrases, Milton often furnishes enlight- 



PREFACE. Vll 

ening parallels in other portions of his works; and in such 
cases the student has been directed to draw his own inferences 
from the passages cited in elucidatioa. 

Milton has been interpreted by other poets. It is often asserted, 
with considerable justice, that there is a class of pedantic 
commentators who darken counsel by words without knowl- 
edge ; and that, being intent on the mint, the anise, and 
the cummin of scholarship, they have omitted the weightier 
matters, insight and sympathy. How obvious is it, then, that 
we should look to a poet's brethren in craftsmanship and soul 
to supply interpretative comment, in cases where they have 
shown themselves disposed to do so. Fortunately, there is 
no lack of poetic exegetes upon Milton, and it has proved easy 
to enrich the pages of this edition with opinions of the highest, 
significance from artists and men like Landor, Lowell, Words- 
worth, and Matthew Arnold. 

The sources whence Milton derived inspiration or phraseology 
have been exhibited somewhat more fully than usual. It is a com- 
monplace that Milton was learned, and used his learning 
freely in Paradise Lost. So fully has this been recognized, 
that the greater part of the parallels, Biblical, classical, and 
from earlier English poets, included in this edition, have been 
indicated by previous commentators. The present editor, 
however, has often quoted more extensively from standard 
translations of the ancients than his predecessors, and in 
several instances, as, for example, in the notes on I. 521, 550, 
668, II. 302, 420, etc., has made contributions of his own. An 
appendix contains Morley's translation (English Writers, vol. 
II) of those portions of the Pseudo-Csedmonian Genesis which 
are most strikingly similar to passages in Paradise Lost. 

Besides the features just mentioned, there are others of a 
subsidiary nature, such as the interruption of the continuity 



viii PREFACE. 

of the text by typographical devices, and the provision of 
marginal summaries. The latter may be welcome to those 
who wish, before they have acquired a familiarity with the 
poem, to gain a rapid survey of the course and argument of 
the first two books. 

The study of the text should involve substantial conformity 
with the suggestions of the notes, and, in fact, a use of all 
the illustrative matter provided. When reference is made 
to the Bible, or to any other book, the reference should be 
looked up. Nor should the labor end here. The matter of 
the reference or the quotation is but a basis for more inter- 
esting and profitable thought than would be possible without 
it. The inferences and deductions to be drawn by the student 
are, after all, the main thing, and what has been provided for 
purposes of elucidation has been presented in strict subservi- 
ence to this view. 

The books accessible for consultation ought to comprise as 
many as possible of those recommended on pp. 48, 49. There 
should be a Bible ; a Globe edition (Masson's) of Milton ; a 
Globe Spenser and a Globe Shakespeare (Macmillan) ; Lang, 
Leaf, and Myers' translation of the Iliad ; Butcher and Lang's 
Odyssey; the Globe translations of Virgil and Horace; the 
Bohn translation of Ovid (at least the Metamorphoses) ; Mrs. 
Browning's version of the Prometheus Bound, or Plumptre's 
iEschylus (D. C. Heath & Co.) ; Longfellow's Dante (or Nor- 
ton's, or Butler's) ; and Fairfax's Tasso (in the Carisbrooke 
Library). Longinus on the Sublime might be added, in 
Havell's translation (the best), or in the cheap edition pub- 
lished, together with Aristotle's Poetics, by Cassell & Co. 

Milton's employment of rhetorical figures has frequently 
been remarked in the notes, so that the work is adapted for 



PREFACE. IX 

use in conjunction with the teaching of rhetoric. For the 
classification of figures, De Mille's Elements of Rhetoric is 
the work which has been drawn upon. Compositions should 
be written upon such themes as Milton's life, the principal 
characters of the poem, etc. 

The editor would acknowledge his obligations to the labors 
of his predecessors, from Newton to the present. The prin- 
cipal editions have been consulted, and something of value 
obtained from each, the earlier ones, especially Newton's, 
being richest in independent discoveries of literary parallels 
and sources. A large number of these are recorded in Todd's 
edition of Milton. 

The text is substantially that of Masson, but this has some- 
times been more strictly conformed to the first edition of 
Paradise Lost, or changed in certain particulars of spelling or 
punctuation to render it more consistent with itself, or more 
clear to the reader. 

The account of The Composition of Paradise Lost, in the 
Introduction, is abridged, without further alteration, from that 
given by Masson in the Globe edition of Milton, since there 
was no possibility of improving upon it. Those interested in 
the imaginative cosmogony of Paradise Lost are referred to 
Masson's remarks on the subject in his Introduction. 

The Sketch of Milton's Life, and the Chronological Table, 
have been prepared by Mr. Frank H. Chase, Clark Scholar in 
English in Yale University. 

ALBERT S. COOK. 
Yale University, 
Jan. 20, 1896. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Preface ni 

Introduction. 

I. Sketch of Milton's Life 1 

II. Milton's Early Life and Ideals as set forth in 

His own Words 3 

III. The Composition of Paradise Lost 18 

IY. Milton as viewed by Other Poets 30 

V. Chronological Table 44 

VI. Aids to the Study of Milton 48 

Milton's Remarks on 'The Yerse ' 51 

Paradise Lost. 

Book 1 52 

Book II 82 

Notes. 

Book 1 11° 

Book II 160 

Appendix. 

Extracts from the Genesis of the Pseudo-Casdmon, Mor- 

ley's Translation 191 

Index of Authors Quoted or Referred to . . . . 199 



INTRODUCTION. 



I. SKETCH OF MILTON'S LIFE. 

John Milton was born Dec. 9, 1608, in London; and in 
London his whole life, except the years from 1625 to 1639, 
was passed. Of this period of fourteen years, the first seven 
were spent at Christ's College, Cambridge, which he left as a 
Master of Arts in 1632 ; he then retired to his father's home 
at Horton, in Buckinghamshire, where he lived quietly, en- 
gaged, for the most part, in the study of the Classics, until 
1638. In April of that year he set out for a sixteen months' 
journey in Italy, visiting Florence — where he saw the aged 
Galileo in prison, and made many friends — Rome, Naples, 
and other cities. In 1639 he returned to London, and opened 
a little school in his house, having first his two nephews, and 
later other boys, as pupils. In 1649, on the establishment of 
the Commonwealth, he was appointed Latin Secretary to the 
Council of State, a post which he retained under Cromwell 
and his son. During this period he became totally blind. 
After the Restoration, when he escaped the anger of Charles 
II. against the regicides, he was compelled to a quiet life. 
This he employed in literary works, dictating his poetry to his 
daughters or other amanuenses. His death occurred Nov. 8, 
1674. 

The literary career of Milton naturally falls into three well- 
1 



2 INTRODUCTION. 

marked periods : the first and third, of approximately fifteen 
years each, are distinguished by poetry ; the second by prose. 

In the first of these periods, which coincides with Milton's 
absence from London (1625-1639), he devoted himself to lyric 
poetry. Previously to his departure for Cambridge he had 
produced only the paraphrases of two Psalms. At college he 
wrote some English poems, including the Hymn on the Morn- 
ing of Christ's Nativity, and a number in Latin. At Christ's, 
too, were written the first of the series of Sonnets, which form 
a sort of glorified running-commentary on his life. But his 
lyric powers found their highest expression during his six years 
of retirement at Horton. Here he produced L' Allegro, II 
Penseroso, Lycidas, and the Arcades, besides Comus, the 
noblest of English masques, which was performed at Ludlow 
Castle in 1634. On his return from Italy in 1639 he wrote 
the Epitaphium Damonis, his best Latin poem, to the memory 
of Charles Diodati, a college friend. During this period, 
especially its later years, he had his epic much in mind ; but 
for this he saw that he was not yet ripe. 

With Milton's return to London, in 1640, begins his second 
period, — that of controversial prose. During the twenty years 
that followed he was the foremost writer on the Parliament 
side — the man on whom the leaders depended for a telling- 
stroke when it was most needed. He was a good fighter, and 
stoutly defended in turn the Nonconformists against the 
Church-party, the Independents against the Presbyterians, the 
English people against attacks from abroad, and finally a 
republican form of government against monarchy. Whatever 
the question, he was on the side of freedom, and his lance was 
as sharp as his aim was true. To his excessive application, 
when he was writing the First Defence against Salmasius, 
was due, at least proximately, the loss of his sight. 



INTRODUCTION. 3 

On the restoration of the Stuarts, Milton was once more 
free to devote himself to poetry. His third period, in which 
his great epics were produced, extends from 1658 (thus lap- 
ping slightly on the period of prose) until his death in 1674. 
During the twenty years of controversy, his poetic gift had 
not quite slumbered : the series of twenty-three sonnets, a 
slender rill of pure poetry trickling down through the years, 
unites the lyrics of his youth with the great works of his 
maturity. In 1658, the year in which the last of these was 
written, he first put his hand to Paradise Lost, the mighty 
poem for which his whole life up to that time had been a 
more or less conscious preparation. In his earlier days the 
thought of it had helped to keep his ideals high, and in Italy, 
twenty years before, he had reflected much upon it ; now, see- 
ing that the great world had no use for him longer, he retired 
within himself to fulfil his life-dream. In 1667 Paradise 
Lost was published, in ten books ; in 1674 it appeared in 
a second edition, this time in twelve books, as we now have 
it. Paradise Regained, undertaken at the suggestion of 
Thomas Ellwood, a young Quaker friend of the poet, and 
Samson Agonistes, a lyric drama, were published in one 
volume in 1671. A few months after the appearance of 
Paradise Lost in its final form, his work done, John Milton, 
by general consent the second name in English literature, 
passed away. 

II. MILTON'S EARLY LIFE AND IDEALS AS SET 
FORTH IN HIS OWN WORDS. 

[Translated from the Latin of the Defensio Secunda, 1654.] 

I was born at London, of an honest family ; my father was 
distinguished by the undeviating integrity of his life; my 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

mother by the esteem in which she was held, and the alms 
which she bestowed. My father destined me from a child to 
the pursuits of literature ; and my appetite for knowledge was 
so voracious, that, from twelve years of age, I hardly ever left 
my studies, or went to bed before midnight. This primarily 
led to my loss of sight. My eyes were naturally weak, and I 
was subject to frequent headaches ; which, however, could not 
chill the ardor of my curiosity, or retard the progress of my 
improvement. My father had me daily instructed in the 
grammar-school, and by other masters at home. He then, 
after I had acquired a proficiency in various languages, and 
had made a considerable progress in philosophy, sent me to 
the University of Cambridge. Here I passed seven years in 
the usual course of instruction and study, with the approba- 
tion of the good, and without any stain upon my character, 
till I took the degree of Master of Arts. 

After this I did not, as the miscreant feigns, run away into 
Italy, but of my own accord retired to my father's house, 
whither I was accompanied by the regrets of most of the fel- 
lows of the college, who showed me no common marks of 
friendship and esteem. On my father's estate, where he *had 
determined to pass the remainder of his days, I enjoyed an 
interval of uninterrupted leisure, which I entirely devoted to 
the perusal of the Greek and Latin classics ; though I occa- 
sionally visited the metropolis, either for the sake of purchas- 
ing books, or of learning something new in mathematics or in 
music, in which I, at that time, found a source of pleasure 
and amusement. In this manner I spent five years till my 
mother's death. 

I then became anxious to visit foreign parts, and particu- 
larly Italy. My father gave me his permission, and I left 
home with one servant. On my departure, the celebrated 



INTRODUCTION. 5 

Henry Wotton, who had long been King James's Ambassador 
at Venice, gave me a signal proof of his regard, in an elegant 
letter which he wrote, breathing not only the warmest friend- 
ship, but containing some maxims of conduct which I found 
very useful in my travels. The noble Thomas Scudamore, 
King Charles's ambassador, to whom I carried letters of recom- 
mendation, received me most courteously at Paris. His lord- 
ship gave me a card of introduction to the learned Hugo 
Grotius, at that time Ambassador from the Queen of Sweden 
to the French court ; whose acquaintance I anxiously desired, 
and to whose house I was accompanied by some of his lord- 
ship's friends. A few days after, when I set out for Italy, he 
gave me letters to the English merchants on my route, that 
they might show me any civilities in their power. Taking 
ship at Nice, I arrived at Genoa, and afterwards visited Leg- 
horn, Pisa, and Florence. In the latter city, which I have 
always more particularly esteemed for the elegance of its dia- 
lect, its genius, and its taste, I stayed about two months ; 
when I contracted an intimacy with many persons of rank and 
learning, and was a constant attendant at their literary par- 
ties ; a practice which prevails there, and tends so much to 
the diffusion of knowledge and the preservation of friendship. 
No time will ever abolish the agreeable recollections which I 
cherish of Jacopo Gaddi, Carlo Dati, Frescobaldi, Coltellini, 
Buonmattei, Chimentelli, Francini, and many others. From 
Florence I went to Siena, thence to Rome, where, after I had 
spent about two months in viewing the antiquities of that 
renowned city, where I experienced the most friendly atten- 
tions from Lucas Holsten, and other learned and ingenious 
men, I continued my route to Naples. There I was intro- 
duced by a certain recluse, with whom I had traveled from 
Rome, to Giovanni Battista Manso, Marquis of Villa, a noble- 



6 INTRODUCTION. 

man of distinguished rank and authority, to whom Torquato 
Tasso, the illustrious poet, inscribed his book on friendship. 
During my stay he gave me singular proofs of his regard. He 
himself conducted me round the city, and to the palace of the 
viceroy, and more than once paid me a visit at my lodgings. 
On my departure he gravely apologized for not having shown 
me more civility, which he said he had been restrained from 
doing, because I had spoken with so little reserve on matters 
of religion. 

When I was preparing to pass over into Sicily and Greece, 
the melancholy intelligence which I received of the civil com- 
motions in England made me alter my purpose ; for I thought 
it base to be traveling for amusement abroad, while my fel- 
low-citizens were fighting for liberty at home. While I was 
on my way back to Home, some merchants informed me that 
the English Jesuits had formed a plot against me if I returned 
to Rome, because I had spoken too freely on religion ; for it 
was a rule which I laid down to myself in these places, never 
to be the first to begin any conversation on religion, but if 
any questions were put to me concerning my faith, to declare 
it without any reserve or fear. I nevertheless returned to 
Rome. I took no steps to conceal either my person or my 
character ; and for about the space of two months I again 
openly defended, as I had done before, the reformed religion 
in the very metropolis of Popery. By the favor of God, I got 
safe back to Florence, where I was received with as much 
affection as if I had returned to my native country. There 
I stopped as many months as I had done before, except that I 
made an excursion for a few days to Lucca ; and, crossing the 
Apennines, passed through Bologna and Ferrara to Venice. 
After I had spent a month in surveying the curiosities of this 
city, and put on board a ship the books which I had collected 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

in Italy, I proceeded through Verona and Milan, and along 
the Leman Lake to Geneva. The mention of this city brings 
to my recollection the slandering More, and makes me again 
call the Deity to witness that in all those places in which 
vice meets with so little discouragement, and is practised with 
so little shame, I never once deviated from the paths of integ- 
rity and virtue, and perpetually reflected that, though my con- 
duct might escape the notice of men, it could not elude the 
inspection of God. At Geneva I held daily conversations with 
John Diodati, the learned Professor of Theology. Then, pur- 
suing my former route through France, I returned to my 
native country, after an absence of one year and about three 
months ; at the time when Charles, having broken the peace, 
was renewing what is called the Episcopal War with the Scots, 
in which the Royalists being routed in the first encounter, and 
the English being universally and justly disaffected, the neces- 
sity of his affairs at last obliged him to convene a Parliament. 
As soon as I was able, I hired a spacious house in the city for 
myself and my books ; where I again with rapture renewed 
my literary pursuits, and where I calmly awaited the issue of 
the contest, which I trusted to the wise conduct of Providence, 
and to the courage of the people. 

[From the Apology for Smectymnuus, 1642.] 
I had my time, readers, as others have, who have good 
learning bestowed upon them, to be sent to those places where 
the opinion was it might be soonest attained ; and, as the man- 
ner is, was not unstudied in those authors which are most 
commended. Whereof some were grave orators and histo- 
rians, whose matter methought I loved indeed, but, as my 
age then was, so I understood them ; others were the smooth 
elegiac poets, whereof the schools are not scarce, whom both 



8 INTRODUCTION. 

for the pleasing sound of their numerous writing, which in 
imitation I found most easy, and most agreeable to nature's 
part in me, and for their matter, which what it is there be 
few who know not, I was so allured to read, that no recreation 
came to me better welcome. For that it was then those years 
with me which are excused, though they be least severe, I 
may be saved the labor to remember ye. Whence having 
observed them to account it the chief glory of their wit, in 
that they were ablest to judge, to praise, and by that could 
esteem themselves worthiest to love, those high perfections 
which under one or other name they took to celebrate ; I 
thought with myself by every instinct and presage of nature, 
which is not wont to be false, that what emboldened them to 
this task, might, with such diligence as they used, embolden 
me ; and that what judgment, wit, or elegance was my share, 
would herein best appear, and best value itself, by how much 
more wisely, and with more love of virtue, 1 should choose 
(let rude ears be absent) the object of not unlike praises. . . . 
By the firm settling of these persuasions, I became, to my 
best memory, so much a proficient, that if I found those 
authors anywhere speaking unworthy tilings of themselves, or 
unchaste of those names which before they had extolled, this 
effect it wrought with me, — from that time forward their art 
I still applauded, but the men I deplored, and above them all 
preferred the two famous renowners of Beatrice and Laura, 
who never write but honor of them to whom they devote their 
verse, displaying sublime and pure thoughts without trans- 
gression. And long it was not after, when I was confirmed in 
this opinion, that he would not be frustrate of his hope to 
write well hereafter in laudable things ought himself to be a 
true poem — that is, a composition and pattern of the best 
and honorablest things ; not presuming to sing high praises 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

of heroic men or famous cities, unless he have in himself the 
experience and the practice of all that which is praiseworthy. 
These reasonings, together with a certain niceness of nature, 
an honest haughtiness, and self-esteem either of what I was or 
what I might be (which let envy call pride), and lastly that 
modesty, whereof, though not in the title-page, yet here I may 
be excused to make some beseeming profession ; all these 
uniting the supply of their natural aid together, kept me still 
above those low descents of mind, beneath which he must 
deject and plunge himself, that can agree to salable and 
unlawful prostitutions. 

Next (for hear me out now, readers), that I may tell ye 
whither my younger feet wandered, I betook me among those 
lofty fables and romances which recount in solemn cantos the 
deeds of knighthood founded by our victorious kings, and 
from hence had in renown all over Christendom. There I 
read it in the oath of every knight that he should defend, to 
the expense of his best blood, or of his life if it so befell 
him, the honor and chastity of virgin or matron ; from 
whence even then I learned what a noble virtue chastity sure 
must be, to be the defense of which so many worthies, by 
such a dear adventure of themselves, had sworn. And if I 
found in the story afterward, any of them, by word or deed, 
breaking that oath, I judged it the same fault of the poet as 
that which is attributed to Homer, to have written indecent 
things of the gods. Only this my mind gave me, that every 
free and gentle spirit, without that oath, ought to be born 
a knight, nor needed to expect a gilt spur, or the laying of a 
sword upon his shoulder, to stir him up both by his counsel 
and his arms to secure and protect the weakness of any 
attempted chastity. So that even these books, which to many 
others have been the fuel of wantonness and loose living, I 



1 INTR OD UCTION. 

cannot think how, unless by divine indulgence, proved to me 
so many incitements, as you have heard, to the love and stead- 
fast observation of that virtue which abhors the society of 
bordelloes. 

Thus, from the laureate fraternity of poets, riper years and 
the ceaseless round of study and reading led me to the shady 
spaces of philosophy, but chiefly to the divine volumes of 
Plato, and his equal Xenophon ; where if I should tell ye what 
I learnt of chastity and love — I mean that which is truly 
so — whose charming cup is only virtue, which she bears in 
her hand to those who are worthy (the rest are cheated with 
a thick, intoxicating potion, which a certain sorceress, the 
abuser of love's name, carries about) ; and how the first and 
chiefest office of love begins and ends in the soul, producing 
those happy twins of her divine generation, knowledge and 
virtue ; with such abstracted sublimities as these, it might 
be worth your listening, readers, as I may one day hope to 
have ye in a still time, when there shall be no chiding. 

[From The Reason of Church Government urged against Prelaty, 1641.] 

Lastly, I should not choose this manner of 'writing, where- 
in knowing myself inferior to myself, led by the genial power 
of nature to another task, I have the use, as I may account, 
but of my left hand. And though I shall be foolish in saying 
more to this purpose, yet since it will be such a folly as wisest 
men go about to commit, having only confessed and so com- 
mitted, I may trust with more reason, because with more 
folly, to have courteous pardon. For although a poet, soaring 
in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland and singing- 
robes about him, might without apology speak more of him- 
self than I mean to do ; yet for me, sitting here below in the 
cool element of prose, a mortal thing among many readers of 



INTIi OB UCTION. 11 

no empyreal conceit, to venture and divulge unusual things 
of myself, I shall petition to the gentler sort it may not be 
envy to me. 

I must say, therefore, that after I had for my first years, by 
the ceaseless diligence and care of my father (whom God 
recompense !) been exercised to the tongues and some sciences, 
as my age would suffer, by sundry masters and teachers, both 
at home and at the schools, it was found that whether aught 
was imposed me by them that had the overlooking, or betaken 
to of mine own choice in English or other tongue, prosing or 
versing, but chiefly by this latter, the style, by certain vital 
signs it had, was likely to live. But much latelier in the 
private Academies of Italy, whither I was favored to resort, 
perceiving that some trifles which I had in memory, composed 
at under twenty or thereabout (for the manner is, that every 
one must give some proof of his wit and reading there), met 
with acceptance above what was looked for ; and other things, 
which I had shifted in scarcity of books and conveniences to 
patch up amongst them, were received with written encomiums, 
which the Italian is not forward to bestow on men of this side 
the Alps ; I began thus far to assent both to them and divers of 
my friends here at home, and not less to an inward prompting 
which now grew daily upon me, that by labor and intense 
study (which I take to be my portion in this life), joined with 
the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave some- 
thing so written to after-times, as they should not willingly 
let it die. 

These thoughts at once possessed me, and these other : that 
if I were certain to write as men buy leases, for three lives 
and downward, there ought no regard be sooner had than to 
God's glory by the honor and instruction of my country. For 
which cause, and not only for that I knew it would be hard to 



12 IB TR OB UCTION. 

arrive at the second rank among the Latins, I applied myself 
to that resolution which Ariosto followed against the per- 
suasions of Bembo, to fix all the industry and art I could 
unite to the adorning of my native tongue ; not to make 
verbal curiosities the end — that were a toilsome vanity — but 
to be an interpreter and relater of the best and sagest things 
among mine own citizens throughout this island in the mother 
dialect. That what the greatest and choicest wits of Athens, 
Rome, or modern Italy, and those Hebrews of old, did for 
their country, I, in my proportion, with this over and above 
of being a Christian, might do for mine ; not caring to be 
once named abroad, though perhaps I could attain to that, 
but content with these British islands as my world; whose 
fortune hath hitherto been, that if the Athenians, as some 
say, made their small deeds great and renowned by their elo- 
quent writers, England hath had her noble achievements made 
small by the unskilful handling of monks and mechanics. 

Time serves not now, and perhaps I might seem too pro- 
fuse, to give any certain account of what the mind at home, 
in the spacious circuits of her musing, hath liberty to propose 
to herself, though of highest hope and hardest attempting ; 
whether that epic form whereof the two poems of Homer, and 
those other two of Virgil and Tasso, are a diffuse, and the 
book of Job a brief model ; or whether the rules of Aristotle 
herein are strictly to be kept, or nature to be followed, which 
in them that know art and use judgment is no transgression, 
but an enriching of art ; and, lastly, what king or knight 
before the Conquest might be chosen, in whom to lay the 
pattern of a Christian hero. And as Tasso gave to a prince 
of Italy his choice whether he would command him to Avrite 
of Godfrey's expedition against the Infidels, or Belisarius 
against the Goths, or Charlemain against the Lombards ; if to 



INTRODUCTION. 13 

the instinct of nature and the emboldening of art aught may 
be trusted, and that there be nothing adverse in our climate 
or the fate of this age, it haply would be no rashness, from 
an equal diligence and inclination, to present the like offer in 
our own ancient stories ; or whether those dramatic constitu- 
tions, wherein Sophocles and Euripides reign, shall be found 
more doctrinal and exemplary to a nation. The Scripture 
also affords us a divine pastoral drama in the Song of Solo- 
mon, consisting of two persons and a double chorus, as Ori- 
gen rightly judges. And the Apocalypse of St. John is the 
majestic image of a high and stately tragedy, shutting up and 
intermingling her solemn scenes and acts with a sevenfold 
chorus of hallelujahs and harping symphonies ; and this my 
opinion the grave authority of Parseus, commenting that book, 
is sufficient to confirm. Or, if occasion shall lead, to imitate 
those magnific odes and hymns, wherein Pindarus and Callim- 
achus are in most things worthy, some others in their frame 
judicious, in their matter most an end faulty. But those fre- 
quent songs throughout the law and prophets beyond all these, 
not in their divine argument alone, but in the very critical art 
of composition, may be easily made appear over all the kinds 
of lyric poesy to be incomparable. 

These abilities, wheresoever they be found, are the inspired 
gift of God, rarely bestowed, but yet to some (though most 
abuse) in every nation ; and are of power, beside the office of 
a pulpit, to imbreed and cherish in a great people the seeds 
of virtue and public civility, to allay the perturbations of the 
mind, and set the affections in right tune ; to celebrate in 
glorious and lofty hymns the throne and equipage of God's 
almightiness, and what he works, and what he suffers to be 
wrought with high providence in his Church ; to sing victori- 
ous agonies of martyrs and saints, the deeds and triumphs of 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

just and pious nations, doing valiantly through faith against 
the enemies of Christ; to deplore the general relapses of 
kingdoms and states from justice and God's true worship. 
Lastly, whatsoever in religion is holy and sublime, in virtue 
amiable or grave, whatsoever hath passion or admiration in 
all the changes of that which is called fortune from without, 
or the wily subtleties and refluxes of man's thoughts from 
within ; all these things with a solid and treatable smoothness 
to paint out and describe, teaching over the whole book of 
sanctity and virtue, through all the instances of example, with 
such delight to those especially of soft and delicious temper, 
who will not so much as look upon truth herself unless they 
see her elegantly dressed, that, whereas the paths of honesty 
and good life appear now rugged and difficult, though they be 
indeed easy and pleasant, they will then appear to all men 
both easy and pleasant, though they were rugged and difficult 
indeed. And what a benefit this would be to our youth and 
gentry may be soon guessed by what we know of the corrup- 
tion and bane which they suck in daily from the writings and 
interludes of libidinous and ignorant poetasters, who, having 
scarce ever heard of that which is the main consistence of 
a true poem — the choice of such persons as they ought to 
introduce, and what is moral and decent to each one — do 
for the most part lay up vicious principles in sweet pills to 
be swallowed down, and make the taste of virtuous docu- 
ments harsh and sour. . . . 

The thing which I had to say, and those intentions which 
have lived within me ever since I could conceive myself any- 
thing worth to my country, I return to crave excuse that 
urgent reason hath plucked from me, by an abortive and fore- 
dated discovery. And the accomplishment of them lies not 
but in a power above man's to promise ; but that none hath 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

by more studious ways endeavored, and with more unwearied 
spirit that none shall, that I dare almost aver of myself, 
as far as life and free leisure will extend, and that the land 
had once enfranchised herself from this impertinent yoke of 
prelaty, under whose inquisitorious and tyrannical duncery 
no free and splendid wit can nourish. Neither do I think 
it shame to covenant with any knowing reader that for some 
few years yet I may go on trust with him toward the payment 
of what I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised 
from the heat of youth, or the vapors of wine, — like that 
which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amorist, 
or the trencher fury of a riming parasite ; nor to be obtained 
by the invocation of Dame Memory and her siren daughters, 
but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich 
with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim 
with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips 
of whom he pleases. To this must be added industrious and 
select reading, steady observation, insight into all seemly and 
generous arts and affairs ; till which in some measure be com- 
passed, at mine own peril and cost I refuse not to sustain 
this expectation from as many as are not loth to hazard so 
much credulity upon the best pledges that I can give them. 
Although it nothing content me to have disclosed thus much 
beforehand, but that 1 trust hereby to make it manifest with 
what small willingness I endure to interrupt the pursuit of no 
less hopes than these, and leave a calm and pleasing solitari- 
ness, fed with cheerful and confident thoughts, to embark in 
a troubled sea of noises and hoarse disputes, put from behold- 
ing the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air 
of delightful studies. . . . But were it the meanest under- 
service, if God by his secretary Conscience enjoin it, it were 
sad for me if I should draw back ; for me especially, now 



16 IN TROD UCTION. 

when all men offer their aid to help, ease, and lighten the 
difficult labors of the Church, to whose service, by the inten- 
tions of my parents and friends, I was destined of a child, 
and in mine own resolutions ; till, coming to some maturity of 
years, and perceiving what tyranny had invaded the Church, 
that he who would take orders must subscribe slave, and take 
an oath withal, which, unless he took with a conscience that 
would retch, he must either straight perjure, or split his faith ; 
I thought it better to prefer a blameless silence before the 
sacred office of speaking, bought and begun with servitude 
and forswearing. 

[From the Tractate on Education, 1641.] 

When all these employments are well conquered, then will 
the choice histories, heroic poems, and Attic tragedies of state- 
liest and most regal argument, with all the famous political 
orations, offer themselves ; which, if they were not only read, 
but some of them got by memory, and solemnly pronounced 
with right accent and grace, as might be taught, would endue 
them even with the spirit and vigor of Demosthenes or 
Cicero, Euripides or Sophocles. 

And now, lastly, will be the time to read with them those 
organic arts, which enable men to discourse and write per- 
spicuously, elegantly, and according to the fittest style of 
lofty, mean, or lowly. Logic, therefore, so much as is useful, 
is to be referred to this due place with all her well-couched 
heads and topics, until it be time to open her contracted palm 
into a graceful and ornate rhetoric, taught out of the rule 
of Plato, Aristotle, Phalereus, Cicero, Hermogenes, Longinus. 
To which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather 
precedent, as being less subtile and fine, but more simple, sen- 
suous, and passionate. I mean not here the prosody of a verse, 



INTB OB UCTION. 1 7 

which they could not but have hit on before among the rudi- 
ments of grammar, but that sublime art which in Aristotle's 
Poetics, in Horace, and the Italian commentaries of Castelve- 
tro, Tasso, Mazzoni, and others, teaches what the laws are of 
a true epic poem, what of a dramatic, what of a lyric, what 
decorum is, which is the grand masterpiece to observe. This 
would make them soon perceive what despicable creatures our 
common rimers and play-writers be, and show them what 
religious, what glorious and magnificent use might be made 
of poetry, both in divine and human things. From hence, 
and not till now, will be the right season of forming them to 
be able writers and composers in every excellent matter, when 
they shall be thus fraught with a universal insight into 
things. 

[From the Apology for Smectymnwts, 1642.] 

True eloquence I find to be none but the serious and 
hearty love of truth; and that whose mind soever is fully 
possessed with a fervent desire to know good things, and 
with the dearest charity to infuse the knowledge of them into 
others, when such a man would speak, his words (by what I 
can express), like so many nimble and airy servitors, trip about 
him at command, and, in well-ordered files, as he would wish, 
fall aptly into their own places. 

[From the Defensio Secunda, 1654.] 

He alone is worthy of the appellation [great] who either 
does great things, or teaches how they may be done, or de- 
scribes them with a suitable majesty when they have been 
done ; but those only are great things which tend to render 
life more happy, which increase the innocent enjoyments and 
comforts of existence, or which pave the way to a state of 
future bliss more permanent and more pure. 



18 INTRODUCTION. 

III. THE COMPOSITION OF PARADISE LOST. 

FROM MASSON'S INTRODUCTION TO PARADISE LOST. 

It was in 1639, after his return from his Italian tour, in 
his thirty-first year, that Milton, as he tells us, first bethought 
himself seriously of some great literary work, on a scale com- 
mensurate with his powers, and which posterity should not 
willingly let die. He had resolved that it should be an Eng- 
lish poem; he had resolved that it should be an epic; nay t 
he had all but resolved — as is proved by his Latin poem to 
Manso, and his Epitaphium Damonis — that his subject should 
be taken from the legendary history of Britain, and should in- 
clude the romance of Arthur and his Knights of the Round 
Table. Suddenly, however, this decision was shaken. He 
became uncertain whether the dramatic form might not be 
fitter for his x purpose than the epic, and, letting go the subject 
of Arthur, he began to look about for other subjects. The 
proof exists in the form of a list — written by Milton's own 
hand in 1640-1, or certainly not later than 1642, and pre- 
served among the Milton MSS. in Trinity College, Cambridge 
— of about one hundred subjects, many of them Scriptural, 
and the rest from British History, which he had jotted down, 
with the intention, apparently, of estimating their relative de- 
grees of capability, and at last fixing on the one, or the one 
or two, that should appear best. Now, at the head of this long- 
list of subjects is Paradise Lost. There are no fewer than 
four separate drafts of this subject as then meditated by Mil- 
ton for dramatic treatment. The first draft consists merely of 
a list of dramatis persona*, as follows : — 

" The Persons : —Michael; Heavenly Love; Chorus of Angels; 
Lucifer; Adam, Eve, with the Serpent; Conscience; Death; Labor, 
Sickness, Discontent, Ignorance, with others, Mutes; Faith; Hope; 
Charity." 



INTRODUCTION. 19 

This draft having been cancelled, another is written parallel 
with it, as follows : — 

" The Persons : —Moses [originally written 'Michael or Moses,' 
but the words 'Michael or' deleted, so as to leave 'Moses ' as prefer- 
able for the drama] ; Justice, Mercy, Wisdom ; Heavenly Love ; the 
Evening Star, Hesperus ; Lucifer ; Adam ; Eve ; Conscience ; Labor, 
Sickness, Discontent, Ignorance, Fear, Death, [as] Mutes; Faith; 
Hope; Charity." 

This having also been scored out, there follows a third draft, 
more complete, thus : — 

"Paradise Lost: — The Persons: Moses Trpoloyi^u, recounting 
how he assumed his true body ; that it corrupts not, because of his 
[being] with God in the mount; declares the like of Enoch and Elian, 
besides the purity of the place — that certain pure winds, dews, and 
clouds preserve it from corruption; whence exhorts to the sight of 
God ; tells them they cannot see Adam in the state of innocence by 
reason of their sin. — [Act I.] : Justice, Mercy, Wisdom, debating 
what should become of Man if he fall. Chorus of Angels sing a 
hymn of the Creation. — Act II.: Heavenly Love; Evening Star. 
Chorus sing the marriage song and describe Paradise. — Act III.: 
Lucifer contriving Adam's ruin. Chorus fears for Adam and relates 
Lucifer's rebellion and fall. — Act IV.: Adam, Eve, fallen; Con- 
science cites them to God's examination. Chorus bewails and tells 
the good Adam hath lost. — Act V.: Adam and Eve driven out of 
Paradise, presented by an Angel with Labor, Grief, Hatred, Envy, 
War, Famine, Pestilence, Sickness, Discontent, Ignorance, Fear, [as] 
Mutes — to whom he gives their names — likewise Winter, Heat, 
Tempest, &c. ; Death entered into the world ; Faith, Hope, Charity, 
comfort and instruct him. Chorus briefly concludes." 

This is left standing; but in another part of the IMS., 
as if written at some interval of time, is a fourth draft, as 
follows : — 

"Adam Unparadised: — The Angel Gabriel, either descending 
or entering — showing, since the globe is created, his frequency as 
much on Earth as in Heaven — describes Paradise. Next the Chorus, 



20 INTB OB UCTION. 

showing the reason of his coming — to keep his watch, after Lucifer's 
rebellion, by the command of God — and withal expressing his desire 
to see and know more concerning this excellent and new creature, 
Man. The Angel Gabriel, as by his name signifying a Prince of 
Power, passes by the station of the Chorus, and, desired by them, 
relates what he knew of Man, as the creation of Eve, with their love 
and marriage. — After this, Lucifer appears, after his overthrow; 
bemoans himself; seeks revenge upon Man. The Chorus prepares 
resistance at his first approach. At last, after discourse of enmity 
on either side, he departs; whereat the Chorus sing of the battle and 
victory in Heaven against him and his accomplices, as before, after 
the first Act, was sung a hymn of the Creation. — Here again may 
appear Lucifer, relating and consulting on what he had done to the 
destruction of Man. Man next and Eve, having been by this time 
seduced by the Serpent, appear confusedly, covered with leaves. 
Conscience, in a shape, accuses him ; Justice cites him to the place 
whither Jehovah called for him. In the meantime the Chorus enter- 
tains the stage and is informed by some Angel of the manner of the 
Fall. Here the Chorus bewails Adam's fall. — Adam and Eve return 
and accuse one another; but especially Adam lays the blame to his 
wife — is stubborn in his offence. Justice appears, reasons with him, 
convinces him. The Chorus admonishes Adam, and bids him beware 
Lucifer's example of impenitence. — The Angel is sent to banish them 
out of Paradise ; but, before, causes to pass before his eyes, in shapes, 
a masque of all the evils of this life and world. He is humbled, 
relents, despairs. At last appears Mercy, comforts him, promises 
him the Messiah ; then calls in Faith, Hope, Charity; instructs him. 
He repents, gives God the glory, submits to his penalty. The Chorus 
briefly concludes. — Compare this with the former Draft." 

These schemes of a possible drama on the subject of Para- 
dise Lost were written out by Milton as early as between 1639 
and 1642, or between his thirty-first and his thirty-fourth year, 
as a portion of a list of about a hundred subjects which occurred 
to him, in the course of his reading at that time, as worth con- 
sidering for the great English Poem which he hoped to give to 
the world. From the place and the proportion of space which 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

they occupy in the list, it is apparent that the subject of Para- 
dise Lost had then fascinated him more strongly than any of 
the others, and that, if his notion of an epic on Arthur was 
then given up, a drama on Paradise Lost had occurred to him 
as the most likely substitute. It is also more probable than 
not that he then knew of previous dramas that had been 
written on the subject, and that, in writing out his own 
schemes, he had the schemes of some of these dramas in his 
mind. Vondel's play was not then in existence ; but An- 
dreini's was. Farther, there is evidence in Milton's prose pam- 
phlets published about this time that, if he did ultimately fix 
on the subject he had so particularly been meditating, he was 
likely enough to make himself acquainted with any previous 
efforts on the same subject, and to turn them to account for 
whatever they might be worth. Thus, in his Reason of Church 
Government (1641), taking the public into his confidence in 
various matters relating to himself, and informing them par- 
ticularly how his mind had been recently occupied with thoughts 
of a great English poem (whether an epic or a drama he had 
not, he hints, quite determined), and with what reluctance he 
felt himself drawn away from that design to engage in the 
political controversies of the time, he thus pledges himself 
that the design, though necessarily postponed, shall not be 
abandoned : l Neither do I think it shame to covenant with 
any knowing reader that for some few years yet I may go 
on trust with him toward the payment of what I am now 
indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of 
youth, or the vapors of wine, like that which flows at waste 
from the pen of some vulgar amorist, or the trencher-fury of a 
riming parasite, nor to be obtained by the invocation of Dame 
Memory and her Siren daughters, but by devout prayer to that 
Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, 



oo 



INTRODUCTION. 



and sends out his Seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar 
to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases. To this must 
be added industrious and select reading, steady observation, 
insight into all seemly and generous arts and affairs — till 
which in some measure be compassed, at mine own peril and 
cost I refuse not to sustain this expectation from as many as 
are not loth to hazard so much credulity upon the best pledges 
that I can give them.' 

There is evidence that, about the time when Milton thus 
announced to the public his design of some great English 
poem, to be accomplished at leisure, and when he was pri- 
vately considering with himself whether a tragedy on the 
subject of Paradise Lost might not best fulfil the conditions 
of such a design, he had actually gone so far as to write not 
only the foregoing drafts of the tragedy, but even some lines 
by way of opening. Speaking of Paradise Lost, and of the 
author's original intention that it should be a tragedy, Milton's 
nephew, Edward Phillips, tells us in his Memoir of his uncle 
(1694) : ' In the Fourth Book of the Poem there are six [ten?] 
verses, which, several years before the Poem was begun, were 
shown to me, and some others, as designed for the very begin- 
ning of the said tragedy.' The verses referred to by Phillips 
are those (P. L. iv. 32-41) that now form part of Satan's speech 
on first standing on the Earth, and beholding, among the 
glories of the newly-created World, the Sun in his full splen- 
dor in the Heavens : — 

O thou that, Avith surpassing glory crowned, 
Look'st from thy sole dominion like the god 
Of this new World — at whose sight all the stars 
Hide their diminished heads— to thee I call, 
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 
O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, 
That bring to my remembrance from what state 



INTE OD UCTION. 23 

I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere, 
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down, 
Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King ! 

Phillips's words * several years before the Poem was begun' 
would not, by themselves, fix the date at which he had seen 
these lines. But in Aubrey's earlier Memoir of Milton (1680), 
containing information which Aubrey had derived from Phil- 
lips, this passage occurs : i In the 4th book of Paradise Lost 
there are about 6 verses of Satan's exclamation to the Sun 
w ch Mr. E. Phi. remembers, about 15 or 16 years before ever 
his poem was thought of; w ch verses were intended for the 
beginning of a tragcedie, w ch he had design'd, but was diverted 
from it by other besinesse.' Here we have indirectly Phil- 
lips's own authority that he had read the verses in question 
at a date which we shall presently see reason to fix at 1642. 
He was then a pupil of his uncle, and living with him in his 
house in Aldersgate Street. 

Alas ! it was not < for some few years ' only, as Milton had 
thought in 1641, that the execution of the great work so 
solemnly then promised had to be postponed. For a longer 
time than he had expected England remained in a condition 
in which he did not think it right, even had it been possible, 
that men like him should be writing poems. Only towards 
the end of Cromwell's Protectorate, when Milton had reached 
his fiftieth year, and had been for five or six years totally 
blind, does he seem to have been in circumstances to resume 
effectually the design to which he had pledged himself seven- 
teen years before. By that time, however, there was no longer 
any doubt as to the theme he would choose. All the other 
themes once entertained had faded more or less into the back- 
ground of memory, and paradise lost stood out, bold, clear, 
and without competitor. Nay more, the dramatic form, for 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

which, when the subject first occurred to him, -Milton had felt 
a preference, had been now abandoned, and it had been re- 
solved that the poem should be an epic. He began this epic 
in earnest almost certainly before Cromwell was dead — 
' about 2 yeares before the K[ing] came in,' says Aubrey on 
Phillips's authority; that is, in 1658, when, notwithstanding 
his blindness, he was still in official attendance on Cromwell 
at Whitehall as his Latin Secretary, and writing occasional 
letters, in Cromwell's name, to foreign states and princes. . . . 

As the Great Plague was then [1665] raging in London, 
Milton had removed from his house in Artillery Walk to a 
cottage at Chalfont-St.-Giles, in Buckinghamshire, which had 
been taken for him, at his request, by Thomas Ellwood, a 
young Quaker, whose acquaintance with him had begun a 
year or two before in Jewin Street. Visiting Milton here as 
soon as circumstances would permit, Ellwood was received in 
a manner of which he has left an account in his Autobiog- 
raphy. < After some common discourses,' he says, < had passed 
between us, he called for a manuscript of his ; which, being 
brought, he delivered to me, bidding me take it home with 
me and read it at my leisure, and, when I had so done, return 
it to him with my judgment thereupon. When I came home, 
and had set myself to read it, I found it was that excellent 
poem which he entituled Paradise Lost.' 

The anecdote proves the existence of at least one, and most 
probably of more than one, complete copy in the autumn of 
1065 — which may, accordingly, be taken as the date when 
the poem was considered ready for press. The delay of publi- 
cation till two years after that date is easily accounted for. 
It was not, says Ellwood, till ' the sickness was over, and the 
city well cleansed, and become safely habitable again,' that 
Milton returned to his house in Artillery Walk ; then, still 



INTR OD UCTION. 25 

farther paralyzing business of all sorts, came the Great Fire 
of September, 1666 ; and there were difficulties, as we have 
seen, about the licensing of a poem by a person of Milton's 
political antecedents and principles. 

Whether the time spent by Milton in the composition of 
Paradise Lost was five years (1658-1663), or seven or eight 
years (1658-1665), it is certain that he bestowed on the work 
all that care and labor which, on his first contemplation of 
such a work in his earlier manhood, he had declared would be 
necessary. The < industrious and select reading,' which he 
had then spoken of as one of the many requisites, had not 
been omitted. Whatever else Paradise Lost may be, it is 
certainly one of the most learned poems in the world. In 
thinking of it in this character we are to remember, first of 
all, that, ere his blindness had befallen him (1652), Milton's 
mind was stored with an amount of various and exact learn- 
ing such as few other men of his age possessed ; so that, had 
he ceased then to acquire more, he would have still carried in 
his memory an enormous resource of material out of which to 
build up the body of his poem. But he did not, after his 
blindness, cease to add to his knowledge by reading. At the 
very time when he was engaged on his Paradise Lost, he 
had, as his nephew Phillips informs us, several other great 
undertakings in progress of a different character, for which 
daily reading and research were necessary, even if they could 
have been dispensed with for the poem — to wit, the construc- 
tion of a Body of Divinity from the Scriptures, the completion 
of a History of England, and the collection of materials for a 
Thesaurus, or Dictionary, of the Latin tongue. Laboriously 
every day, with a due division of his time from early morning, 
he pursued these tasks, by a systematic use of assistants whom 
he kept about him. As at the time when the composition 



26 INTRODUCTION. 

of Paradise Lost was begun the eldest daughter, Anne, was 
but twelve years of age, the second, Mary, but ten, and the 
youngest, Deborah, but six, and as when the poem was cer- 
tainly finished their ages were about eighteen, sixteen, and 
twelve respectively, their services as readers during its compo- 
sition can have been but partial. But, whether with them as 
his readers, or with young men and grown-up friends perform- 
ing the part for hire or love, he was able to avail himself for 
his poem, as well as for the drier works on which he was 
simultaneously engaged, of any help which books could give. 
He may, accordingly, at this time, if not before, have made 
himself acquainted with some of those poems and other works, 
Italian and Latin, in which his subject, or some portion of it, 
had been previously treated. He was very likely to do so, and 
to take any hint he could get. 

It would not be difficult to prove, at any rate, that, among 
the < select readings ' engaged in specially for the purposes 
of Paradise Lost while it was in progress, must have been 
readings in certain books of geography and Eastern travel, 
and in certain Rabbinical, early Christian, and mediaeval com- 
mentators on the subjects of Paradise, the Angels, and the 
Fall. Nothing is more striking in the poem, nothing more 
touching, than the frequency, and, on the whole, wonderful 
accuracy, of its references to maps ; and, whatever wealth of 
geographical information Milton may have carried with him 
into his blindness, there are evidences, I think, that he must 
have refreshed his recollections of this kind by the eyes of 
others, and perhaps by their guidance of his finger, after his 
sight was gone. In short, for the Paradise Lost, as well as 
for the prose labors carried on along with it, there must have 
been abundance of reading ; and, remembering to what a stock 
of prior learning, possessed before his blindness, all such incre- 



INTR OB UCTION. 27 

ments were added, we need have no wonder at the appearance 
now presented by the poem. To say merely that it is a most 
learned poem — the poem of a mind full of miscellaneous lore 
wherewith its grand imagination might work — is not enough. 
Original as it is, original in its entire conception, and in every 
portion and passage, the poem is yet full of flakes — we can 
express it no otherwise — full of flakes from all that is great- 
est in preceding literature, ancient or modern. This is what 
all the commentators have observed, and what their labors 
in collecting parallel passages from other poets and prose- 
writers have served more and more to illustrate. Such labors 
have been overdone ; but they have proved incontestably the 
tenacity of Milton's memory. In the first place, Paradise 
Lost is permeated from beginning to end with citations from 
the Bible. Milton must have almost had the Bible by heart ; 
and, besides that some passages of his poem, where he is keep- 
ing close to the Bible as his authority, are avowedly coagu- 
lations of Scriptural texts, it is possible again and again, 
throughout the rest, to detect the flash, through his noblest 
language, of some suggestion from the Psalms, the Prophets, 
the Gospels, or the Apocalypse. So, though in a less degree, 
with Homer, the Greek tragedians (Euripides was a special 
favorite of his), Plato, Demosthenes, and the Greek classics 
generally, and with Lucretius, Cicero, Virgil, Horace, Ovid, 
Juvenal, Persius, and the other Latins. So with the Italian 
writers whom he knew so well — Dante, Petrarch, Ariosto, 
Tasso, and others now less remembered. So with modern 
Latinists of various European countries, still less recoverable. 
Finally, so with the whole series of preceding English poets, 
particularly Spenser, Shakespeare, and some of the minor 
Spenserians of the reigns of James and Charles I., not forget- 
ting that uncouth popular favorite of his boyhood, Sylvester's 



28 INTRODUCTION. 

Du Bartas. In connexion with all which, or with any particu- 
larly striking instance of the use by Milton of a thought or a 
phrase from previous authors, let the reader remember his 
own definition of plagiarism, given in his EiKovoKAacn-tys. 
1 Such kind of borrowing as this,' he there says, ' if it be not 
bettered by the borrower, among good authors is accounted 
plagiary.' And again, of quotations from the Bible, — < It 
is not hard for any man who hath a Bible in his hands to 
borrow good words and holy sayings in abundance ; but to 
make them his own is a work of grace only from above.' 

How was the poem, as it grew in Milton's mind, committed 
to paper? It was dictated by parcels of ten, twenty, thirty, 
or more lines at a time. Even before his blindness, Milton 
had made use of amanuenses ; but, after his blindness, he 
scarcely wrote at all with his own hand. It would be difficult 
to produce a genuine autograph of his of later date than 1652. 
On this matter Phillips is again our most precise authority. 
1 There is another very remarkable passage,' he says, < in the 
composure of this poem, which I have a particular occasion 
to remember; for, whereas I had the perusal of it from the 
very beginning, for some years as I went from time to time 
to visit him, in a parcel of ten, twenty, or thirty verses at a 
time — which, being written by whatever hand came next, 
might possibly want correction as to the orthography and 
pointing — having, as the summer came on, not been shewed 
any for a considerable while, and desiring the reason thereof, 
was answered, that his verse never happily flowed but from 
the Autumnal Equinoctial to the Vernal [i.e. from the end 
of September to the end of March], and that whatever he 
attempted [at other times] was never to his satisfaction, 
though he exerted his fancy never so much ; so that, in all 



INTRODUCTION. 29 

the years he was about this poem, he may be said to have 
spent but half his time therein.' The reader ought to correct 
by this extract, taken in connexion with information already 
given as to Milton's domestic circumstances, the impressions 
he may have received from flummery pictures representing 
the blind poet in a rapt attitude dictating Paradise Lost to his 
attentive and revering daughters. His eldest daughter, Anne, 
could not write ; and though the other two could write, and 
may occasionally, when the poem was in progress, have acted 
as his amanuenses, their ages exclude the idea of their having 
been his chief assistants in this capacity — while w r e also know 
that the poor motherless girls had grown up in circumstances 
to make them regard the services they were required to per- 
form for their father as less a duty than a trouble. On the 
whole, Phillips's words suggest what is probably the right 
notion — that Milton dictated his poem in small portions at 
a time, chiefly within-doors, and more in winter than in 
summer, to any one that chanced to be about him. Some- 
times it may have been one of his daughters ; sometimes, 
latterly, when the poem was nearly complete, it may have been 
his third wife ; frequently it may have been one of the friends 
or youths who statedly read to him. From Phillips's state- 
ment it is also clear that he assisted Milton in revising the 
gathered scraps of MS. from time to time. Finally, when 
all was completed, a clean copy, or clean copies, must have 
been made by some practised scribe. One such clean copy 
was that sent to the licenser, a portion of which, as has been 
mentioned, still exists. The hand in that manuscript has not 
been identified. 



30 INTR OD UCTION. 

IV. MILTON AS VIEWED BY OTHER POETS. 
LONGFELLOW. 

SONNET ON MILTON. 

I pace the sounding sea-beach and behold 
How the voluminous billows roll and run, 
Upheaving and subsiding, while the sun 
Shines through their sleeted emerald far unrolled, 
And the ninth wave, slow gathering fold by fold 
All its loose-flowing garments into one, 
Plunges upon the shore, and floods the dun 
Pale reach of sands, and changes them to gold. 
So in majestic cadence rise and fall 
The mighty undulations of thy song, 
O sightless bard, England's Mseonides! 
And ever and anon, high over all 
Uplifted, a ninth wave superb and strong, 
Floods all the soul with its melodious seas. 

LOWELL. 

FROM THE ESSAY ON MILTON. 

The truth is, that Milton was a harmonist rather than a 
melodist. There are, no doubt, some exquisite melodies (like 
the Sabrina Fair) among his earlier poems, as could hardly 
fail to be the case in an age which produced or trained the 
authors of our best English glees, as ravishing in their in- 
stinctive felicity as the songs of our dramatists, but he also 
showed from the first that larger style which was to be his 
peculiar distinction. The strain heard in the Nativity Ode, in 
the Solemn Music, and in Lycidas, is of a higher mood, as 
regards metrical construction, than anything that had thrilled 
the English ear before, giving no uncertain augury of him 



INTRODUCTION. 31 

who was to show what sonorous metal lay silent till he 
touched the keys in the epical organ-pipes of our various lan- 
guages, that have never since felt the strain of such prevail- 
ing breath. It was in the larger movements of metre that 
Milton was great and original. I have spoken elsewhere of 
Spenser's fondness for dilation as respects thoughts and 
images. In Milton it extends to the language also, and often 
to the single words of which a period is composed. He loved 
phrases of towering port, in which every member dilated 
stands like Teneriffe or Atlas. In those poems and passages 
that stamp him great, the verses do not dance interweaving 
to soft Lydian airs, but march rather with resounding tread 
and clang of martial music. . . . 

In reading Paradise Lost one has a feeling of vastness. 
You float under an illimitable sky, brimmed with sunshine or 
hung with constellations ; the abysses of space are about you : 
you hear the cadenced surges of an unseen ocean : thunders 
mutter round the horizon : and if the scene change, it is with 
an elemental movement like the shifting of mighty winds. 
His imagination seldom condenses, like Shakespeare's, in the 
kindling flash of a single epithet, but loves better to diffuse 
itself. Witness his descriptions, wherein he seems to circle 
like an eagle bathing in the blue streams of air, controlling 
with his eye broad sweeps of champaign or of sea, and rarely 
fulmining in the sudden swoop of intenser expression. He 
was fonder of the vague, perhaps I should rather say the in- 
definite, where more is meant than meets the ear, than any 
other of our poets. He loved epithets (like old and far) that 
suggest great reaches, whether of space or time. This bias 
shows itself already in his earlier poems, as where he hears 

The far-off curfew sound 
Over some wide-watered shore, 



3 2 INTR 01) UCTION. 

or where he fancies the shores and sounding seas washing 
Lycidas far away; but it reaches its climax in the Paradise 
Lost. He produces his effects by dilating our imaginations 
with an impalpable hint rather than by concentrating them 
upon too precise particulars. Thus in a famous comparison 
of his, the fleet has no definite port, but plies stemming 
nightly toward the pole in a wide ocean of conjecture. He 
generalizes always instead of specifying, — the true secret of 
the ideal treatment in which he is without peer, and, though 
everywhere grandiose, he is never turgid. . . . Milton . . . 
is too wise to hamper himself with any statement for which 
he can be brought to book, but wraps himself in a mist of 
looming indefiniteness : — 

He called so loud that all the hollow deep 
Of Hell resounded, 

thus amplifying more nobly by abstention from his usual 
method of prolonged evolution. No caverns, however spa- 
cious, will serve his turn, because they have limits. He could 
practise this self-denial when his artistic sense found it need- 
ful, whether for variety of verse or for the greater intensity 
of effect to be gained by abruptness. His more elaborate 
passages have the multitudinous roll of thunder, dying away 
to gather a sullen force again from its own reverberations, 
but he knew that the attention is recalled and arrested by 
those claps that stop short without echo and leave us listen- 
ing. There are no such vistas and avenues of verse as his. 
In reading the Paradise Lost one has a feeling of spaciousness 
such as no other poet gives. Milton's respect for himself and 
for his own mind rises well nigh to veneration. He prepares 
the way for his thought, and spreads on the ground before 
the sacred feet of his verse tapestries inwoven with figures of 



INTRODUCTION. 33 

mythology and romance. There is no such unfailing dignity 
as his. . . . His sustained strength is especially felt in his 
beginnings. He seems always to start full-sail ; the wind and 
tide always serve ; there is never any fluttering of the can- 
vas. . . . And the poem never becomes incoherent ; we feel 
all through it, as in the symphonies of Beethoven, a great con- 
trolling reason in whose safe-conduct we trust implicitly. . . . 

If there is one thing more striking than another in this 
poet, it is that his great and original imagination was almost 
wholly nourished by books, perhaps I should rather say set 
in motion by them. It is wonderful how, from the most 
withered and juiceless hint gathered in his reading, his grand 
images rise like an exhalation ; how from the most battered 
old lamp caught in that huge drag-net with which he swept 
the waters of learning, he could conjure a tall genius to build 
his palaces. Whatever he touches swells and towers. That 
wonderful passage in Comus of the airy tongues, perhaps 
the most imaginative in suggestion he ever wrote, was con- 
jured out of a dry sentence in Purchas's abstract of Marco 
Polo. Such examples help us to understand the poet. When 
I find that Sir Thomas Browne had said before Milton, that 
Adam ' was the wisest of all men since,'' I am glad to find 
this link between the most profound and the most stately 
imagination of that age. Such parallels sometimes give a 
hint also of the historical development of our poetry, of its 
apostolical succession, so to speak. Every one has noticed 
Milton's fondness of sonorous proper names, which have not 
only an acquired imaginative value by association, and so 
serve to awaken our poetic sensibilities, but have likewise 
a merely musical significance. This he probably caught from 
Marlowe, traces of whom are frequent in him. . . . 

Milton cannot certainly be taxed with any partiality for 



34 INTR OD UCTION. 

low words. He rather loved them tall, as the Prussian King- 
loved men to be six feet high in their stockings, and fit to 
go into the grenadiers. He loved them as much for their 
music as for their meaning, — perhaps more. His style, there- 
fore, when it has to deal with commoner things, is apt to grow 
a little cumbrous and unwieldy. A Persian poet says that 
when the owl would boast, he boasts of catching mice at the 
edge of a hole. Shakespeare would have understood this. 
Milton would have made him talk like an eagle. His influence 
is not to be left out of account as partially contributing to 
that decline toward poetic diction which was already begin- 
ning ere he died. If it would not be fair to say that he is 
the most artistic, he may be called in the highest sense the 
most scientific of our poets. If to Spenser younger poets 
have gone to be sung-to, they have sat at the feet of Milton 
to be taught. . . . 

It results from the almost scornful withdrawal of Milton 
into the fortress of his absolute personality that no great poet 
is so uniformly self-conscious as he. We should say of Shake- 
speare that he had the power of transforming himself into 
everything ; of Milton, that he had that of transforming every- 
thing into himself. 

LAND OR. 

FROM THE IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS (SOUTHEY AND LANDOR). 

Both in epic and dramatic poetry, it is action, and not 
moral, that is first demanded. The feelings and exploits of 
the principal agent should excite the principal interest. The 
two greatest of human compositions are here defective — 
I mean the Iliad and Paradise Lost. Agamemnon is leader 
of the confederate Greeks before Troy, to avenge the cause 
of Menelaus ; yet not only Achilles and Diomed on his 



IN TROD UCTION. 35 

side, but Hector and Sarpedon on the opposite, interest us 
more than the 'king of men,' the avenger, or than his 
brother, the injured prince, about whom they all are fighting. 
In the Paradise Lost no principal character seems to have 
been intended. There is neither truth nor wit, however, in 
saying that Satan is hero of the piece, unless, as is usually the 
case in human life, he is the greatest hero who gives the 
widest sway to the worst passions. It is Adam who acts and 
suffers most, and on whom the consequences have most influ- 
ence. This constitutes him the main character ; although Eve 
is the more interesting, Satan the more energetic, and on 
whom the greater force of poetry is displayed. The Creator 
and his angels are quite secondary. . . . 

Such stupendous genius, so much fancy, so much eloquence, 
so much vigor of intellect, never were united as in Paradise 
Lost. Yet it is neither so correct nor so varied as the 
Iliad, nor, however important the action, so interesting. The 
moral itself is the reason why it wearies even those who 
insist on the necessity of it. Founded on an event believed 
by nearly all nations, certainly by all who read the poem, 
it lays down a principle which concerns every man's welfare, 
and a fact which every man's experience confirms, - — that 
great and irremediable misery may arise from apparently 
small offences. But will any one say that, in a poetical view, 
our certainty of moral truth in this position is an equivalent 
for the uncertainty which of the agents is what critics call the 
hero of the piece ? . . . 

After I have been reading the Paradise Lost, I can take 
up no other poet with satisfaction. I seem to have left the 
music of Handel for the music of the streets, or at best for 
drums and fifes. Although in Shakespeare there are occa- 
sional bursts of harmony no less sublime, yet, if there were 



36 INTRODUCTION. 

many such in continuation, it would be hurtful, not only in 
comedy, but also in tragedy. The greater part should be equable 
and conversational. For, if the excitement were the same at 
the beginning, the middle, and the end; if consequently (as 
must be the case) the language and versification were equally 
elevated throughout ; any long poem would be a bad one, and 
worst of all, a drama. In our English heroic verse, such as 
Milton has composed it, there is a much greater variety of 
feet, of movement, of musical notes and bars, than in the 
Greek heroic ; and the final sounds are incomparably more 
diversified. My predilection in youth was on the side of 
Homer ; for I had read the Iliad twice, and the Odyssea 
once, before the Paradise Lost. Averse as I am to every 
thing relating to theology, and especially to the view of it 
thrown open by this poem, I recur to it incessantly as the 
noblest specimen in the world of eloquence, harmony, and 
genius. . . . 

A rib of Shakespeare would have made a Milton; the 
same portion of Milton, all poets born ever since. 

ARNOLD. 

FROM THE ESSAY ON MILTON. 

If to our English race an inadequate sense for perfection of 
work is a real danger, if the discipline of respect for a high and 
flawless excellence is peculiarly needed by us, Milton is of all 
our gifted men the best lesson, the most salutary influence. 
In the sure and flawless perfection of his rhythm and diction 
he is as admirable as Virgil and Dante, and in this respect he 
is unique amongst us. No one else in English literature and 
art possesses the like distinction. 

Thomson, Cowper, Wordsworth, all of them good poets who 



INTRODUCTION. 37 

have studied Milton, followed Milton, adopted his form, fail in 
their diction and rhythm if we try them by that high standard 
of excellence maintained by Milton constantly. From style 
really high and pure Milton never departs ; their departures 
from it are frequent. 

Shakespeare is divinely strong, rich, and attractive. But 
sureness of perfect style Shakespeare himself does not possess. 
I have heard a politician express wonder at the treasures of 
political wisdom in a celebrated scene of Troilus and Cres- 
sida ; for my part I am at least equally moved to wonder at 
the fantastic and false diction in which Shakespeare has 
in that scene clothed them. Milton, from one end of Para- 
dise Lost to the other, is in his diction and rhythm constantly 
a great artist in the great style. Whatever may be said as to 
the subject of his poem, as to the conditions under which 
he received his subject and treated it, that praise, at any rate, 
is assured to him. 

For the rest, justice is not at present done, in my opinion, 
to Milton's management of the inevitable matter of a Puritan 
epic, a matter full of difficulties for a poet. Justice is not 
done to the architectonics, as Goethe would have called them, 
of Paradise Lost ; in these, too, the power of Milton's art 
is remarkable. But this may be a proposition which requires 
discussion and development for establishing it, and they are 
impossible on an occasion like the present. 

That Milton, of all our English race, is by his diction and 
rhythm the one artist in the great style whom we have ; this I 
take as requiring no discussion, this I take as certain. 

The mighty power of poetry and art is generally admitted. 
But where the soul of this power, of this power at its best, 
chiefly resides, very many of us fail to see. It resides chiefly 
in the refining and elevation wrought in us by the high and 



38 INTRODUCTION. 

rare excellence of the great style. We may feel the effect 
without being able to give ourselves clear account of its cause, 
but the thing is so. Now, no race needs the influences men- 
tioned, the influences of refining and elevation, more than 
ours ; and in poetry and art our grand source for them is 
Milton. 

To what does he owe this supreme distinction ? To nature 
first and foremost, to that bent of nature for inequality which 
to the worshippers of the average man is so unacceptable ; to 
a gift, a divine favor. < The older one grows,' says Goethe, 
'the more one prizes natural gifts, because by no possibility 
can they be procured and stuck on.' Nature formed Milton 
to be a great poet. But what other poet has shown so sincere 
a sense of the grandeur of his vocation, and a moral effort so 
constant and sublime to make and keep himself worthy of it ? 
The Milton of religious and political controversy, and perhaps 
of domestic life also, is not seldom disfigured by want of amen- 
ity, by acerbity. The Milton of poetry, on the other hand, is 
one of those great men < who are modest ' — to quote a fine re- 
mark of Leopardi, that gifted and stricken young Italian, who 
in his sense for poetic style is worthy to be named with Dante 
and Milton — 'who are modest, because they continually com- 
pare themselves, not with other men, but with that idea of the 
perfect which they have before their mind.' The Milton of 
poetry is the man, in his own magnificent phrase, of < devout 
prayer to that Eternal Spirit that can enrich with all utter- 
ance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim with the hal- 
lowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom 
he pleases.' And finally, the Milton of poetry is, in his own 
words again, the man of < industrious and select reading.' 
Continually he lived in companionship with high and rare ex- 
cellence, with the great Hebrew poets and prophets, with the 



INTB OB UCTION. 39 

great poets of Greece and Rome. The Hebrew compositions 
were not in verse, and can be not inadequately represented by 
the grand, measured prose of our English Bible. The verse of 
the poets of Greece and Rome no translation can adequately 
reproduce. Prose cannot have the power of verse ; verse-trans- 
lation may give whatever of charm is in the soul and talent 
of the translator himself, but never the specific charm of the 
verse and poet translated. In our race are thousands of read- 
ers, presently there will be millions, who know not a word of 
Greek or Latin, and will never learn those languages. If this 
host of readers are ever to gain any sense of the power and 
charm of the great poets of antiquity, their way to gain it is 
not through translations of the ancients, but through the ori- 
ginal poetry of Milton, who has the like power and charm, 
because he has the like great style. 

Through Milton they may gain it, for, in conclusion, Milton 
is English; this master in the great style of the ancients is 
English. Virgil, whom Milton loved and honored, has at the 
end of the iEneid a noble passage, where Juno, seeing the 
defeat of Turnus and the Italians imminent, the victory of 
the Trojan invaders assured, entreats Jupiter that Italy may 
nevertheless survive and be herself still, may retain her own 
mind, manners, and language, and not adopt those of the con- 
queror. 

Sit Latium, sint Albani per secula reges. 

Jupiter grants the prayer; he promises perpetuity and the 
future to Italy — Italy reinforced by whatever virtue the Tro- 
jan race has, but Italy, not Troy. This we may take as a sort 
of parable suiting ourselves. All the Anglo-Saxon contagion, 
all the flood of Anglo-Saxon commonness, beats vainly against 
the great style but cannot shake it, and has to accept its tri- 
umph. But it triumphs in Milton, in one of our own race, 



40 INTR OD UCTION. 

tongue, faith, and morals. Milton has made the great style no 
longer an exotic here ; he has made it an inmate amongst us, 
a leaven, and a power. Nevertheless he, and his hearers on 
both sides of the Atlantic, are English, and will remain Eng- 
lish— 

Sermonem Ausonii patrium moresque tenetmnt. 

The English race overspreads the world, and at the same 
time the ideal of an excellence the most high and the most 
rare abides a possession with it for ever. 

EMERSOX. 
FROM THE ESSAY ON MILTON. 

It is the prerogative of this great man to stand at this hour 
foremost of all men in literary history, and so (shall we not 
say?) of all men, in the power to inspire. Virtue goes out of him 
into others. Leaving out of view the pretensions of our contem- 
poraries (always an incalculable influence), we think no man 
can be named whose mind still acts on the cultivated intellect 
of England and America with an energy comparable to that of 
Milton. As a poet, Shakespeare undoubtedly transcends, and 
far surpasses him in his popularity with foreign nations ; but 
Shakespeare is a voice merely ; who and what he was that sang, 
that sings, we know not. Milton stands erect, commanding, 
still visible as a man among men, and reads the laws of the 
moral sentiment to the new-born race. There is something 
pleasing in the affection with which we can regard a man who 
died a hundred and sixty [now, 1896, two hundred and twenty- 
two] years ago in the other hemisphere, who, in respect to per- 
sonal relations, is to us as the wind, yet by an influence purely 
spiritual makes us jealous for his fame as for that of a near 
friend. He is identified in the mind with all select and holy 



INTRODUCTION. 41 

images, with the supreme interests of the human race. If 
hereby we attain any more precision, we proceed to say that 
we think no man in these later ages, and few men ever, pos- 
sessed so great a conception of the manly character. Better 
than any other he has discharged the office of every great man, 
namely, to raise the idea of Man in the minds of his contem- 
poraries and of posterity, — to draw after nature a life of man, 
exhibiting such a composition of grace, of strength, and of 
virtue, as poet had not described nor hero lived. Human na- 
ture in these ages is indebted to him for its best portrait. 
Many philosophers in England, France, and Germany have 
formerly dedicated their study to this problem ; and we think 
it impossible to recall one in those countries who communi- 
cates the same vibration of hope, of self-reverence, of piety, of 
delight in beauty, which the name of Milton awakens. . . . 

His habits of living were austere. He was abstemious in 
diet, chaste, an early riser, and industrious. He tells us, in 
a Latin poem, that the lyrist may indulge in wine and in a 
freer life ; but that he who would write an epic to the nations 
must eat beans and drink water. Yet in his severity is no 
grimace or effort. He serves from love, not from fear. He 
is innocent and exact, because his taste was so pure and deli- 
cate. He acknowledges to his friend Diodati, at the'age of 
twenty-one, that he is enamored, if any was, of moral perfec- 
tion : ' For, whatever the Deity may have bestowed upon me 
in other respects, he has certainly inspired me, if any ever 
were inspired, with a passion for the good and fair. Nor did 
Ceres, according to the fable, ever seek her daughter Proser- 
pine with such unceasing solicitude as I have sought this iov 
xaXov ld£av, this perfect model of the beautiful in all the 
forms and appearances of things.' . . . 

Was there not a fitness in the undertaking of such a person 



42 INTRODUCTION. 

to write a poem on the subject of Adam, the first man By 
his sympathy with all nature ; by the proportion of his powers ; 
by great knowledge, and by religion, he would reascend to the 
height from which our nature is supposed to have descended. 
From a just knowledge of what man should be, he described 
what he was. He beheld him as he walked in Eden. . . . 
And the soul of this divine creature is excellent as his form. 
The tone of his thought and passion is as healthful, as even, 
and as vigorous, as befits the new and perfect model of a race 
of gods. 

The perception we have attributed to Milton, of a purer 
ideal of humanity, modifies his poetic genius. The man is 
paramount to the poet. His fancy is never transcendent, ex- 
travagant ; but, as Bacon's imagination was said to be < the 
noblest that ever contented itself to minister to the under- 
standing,' so Milton's ministers to the character. Milton's 
sublimest song, bursting into heaven with its peals of melo- 
dious thunder, is the voice of Milton still. Indeed, through- 
out his poems, one may see under a thin veil, the opinions, the 
feelings, even the incidents of the poet's life, still reappearing. 
. . . The most affecting passages in Paradise Lost are personal 
allusions ; and, when we are fairly in Eden, Adam and Milton 
are often difficult to be separated. . . . The genius and office 
of Milton were ... to ascend by the aids of his learning and 
his religion — by an equal perception, that is, of the past and 
the future — to a higher insight and more lively delineation 
of the heroic life of man. This was his poem ; whereof all his 
indignant pamphlets and all his soaring verses are only single 
cantos or detached stanzas. 



INTR OD UCTION. 43 



WORDSWORTH. 

FROM THE PREFACE TO THE 1815 EDITION OF HIS POEMS. 

The grand storehouses of enthusiastic and meditative im- 
agination, as contradistinguished from human and dramatic 
imagination, are the prophetic and lyrical parts of the Holy 
Scriptures, and the works of Milton ; to which I cannot for- 
bear to add those of Spenser. I select these writers in pref- 
erence to those of ancient Greece and Rome, because the 
anthropomorphism of the Pagan religion subjected the minds 
of the greatest poets in those countries too much to the bon- 
dage of definite form; from which the Hebrews were pre- 
served by their abhorrence of idolatry. This abhorrence was 
almost as strong in our great epic Poet, both from circum- 
stances of his life, and from the constitution of his mind. 
However indued the surface might be with classical literature, 
he was a Hebrew in soul ; and all things tended in him toward 
the sublime. 

SONNET ON MILTON. 

Milton! thou should' st be living at this hour ; 

England hath need of thee ; she is a fen 

Of stagnant waters ; altar, sword, and pen, 

Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, 

Have forfeited their ancient English dower 

Of inward happiness. We are selfish men ; 

Oh ! raise us up, return to us again ; 

And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. 

Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart ; 

Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea ; 

Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, 

So didst thou travel on life's common way, 

In cheerful godliness ; and yet thy heart 

The lowliest duties on herself did lay. 



44 



INTRODUCTION. 





.a 


© 

+3 




© 


"sh 






"o 








© 








>> 


3 co 




f-l 
Ph 

DO 
© 


© 

= 


© 






pi 
.2 

"Sa 

© 
CJ 




+3 




S 
1 








O 
H 


,9 g 


"ce 

© 


© 

z 


+3 






© 

5 


o 


tl£ 




Ph 


T3 






w 

1* 
PS 

< 

O 


^ © 
5 H 


r> 

© 
. N 
°£h 
o 

p) 


r* 

o 
+= 

b8 


- 

Pi 


on 


o 


O 

1=1 






© 

c3 

PQ 
'o 

"el 
© 


2 

O 
PI 
.° 

9 




*o 
PI 

.2 

05 


© 

PI 

pi 
c 

| 

as 
O 


i 



PI 
O 

1" 






CO . 


<1 


© 

P 


pq 








cm 


P 


Oh 


- 


5 


pq p 




H 
































O 


fl T-t 








<N 






.H 






- 
























00 


o 






c-i 






00 o ®, 

§ 8^ 


CO 


X 

§ 


fi 


OE 

• — 

Si 






■2 © 


s 


w 

s 


3 1 


~1 










CO 


- 


'+3 

£r? 






CO 
IN 


X 


3 


o 

CM 


i 


rH 






co 


"O 


SO 


CO 






CD 


CO 


•^ 




CO 


— 


•^ 






1-H t-H 


1-1 


*"• 


rH 


rH 
















j— 








o 














® 2 








© 

2 






CO 

© 
e3 ri 




rH 














43 e3 








5b 




























© 






© ?? 


« 


.9 














s 








P 






^S 


h 

^ 


d 
S 






















^ 






O 


on 


pq 














so 








Ol 






c-q *h 

o 


o 






















s 






K © 




OS 

© 

© 


























wtuo 




».2 

8^ 














»£1 

(SUP 

c© 








oT«h 

CM O 

CO 






So 

CO 




1-1 














1-1 




























c*_l 






rt 






, 




















C 

BO 

O 

-y. 


0- 
CJ 
rH 

03 

Ph 

s 

rH 




















05 f> 

w £ 

On 8 
O •"£ 

M 

* h 

O 8 












M 

M 
M 
© 

PI 
ea 

> 
u 




+3 

© 

P 
© 

.M 
00.S 






5 >> 

on 




+3 




H „ 












00 




1-1 c3 






cmO 




c-i 




t3 § 












^_- 


a 




~&H 






to«M 




«J 




2£ 












8 




Sc* 






S o 

CM-S 




o 




W 












i 


Ph 




OS'S 
























CC 






CO 






CO 









INTRODUCTION. 



45 



1 s 

o ^ 





g 



a 

© 

rQ 



B 



M 



H W 



S3 



8 3 



+1 <3 

S3 



£5 

CO 






4^ 03 


O 


00 


Sets ou 
Return 


03 
CD 

> 

o 

s 


1 


CO CO 


CD 


^ 


£8 S^ 


£T 


si 


s|s3 


CO . 

■w o 


. o 


<1m <J g 


se^ 


££? 


CO o o £ 
CO«M CO<w 


sJ 


„e3 

COM 


CO CO 


CO 


rH 1-H 


1-1 


1-1 



££^3 



•2 SS 



^£ 



8q 



Os * 



CO 1 ^ 



©'£■ 









*S a, 

se g a. 

^S CD 
ft M 

53 P J. 

CO O tH 



46 



INTRODUCTION 



© 

c3 

d -^ 

O CQ 

1 'S 






■to © S 

SI 3 

^ 



"I 

©^5 
O 

IOh 

s » 

© Fh 

fig 





ti 


n 


lO 




CI 




^ . 


^^ 


eg ;- 


o 




■fcj 


»S 


83 


N2 


CO . 


7* 


+3 0) 


1 ^ 

cc S 


«2 a 


P^ 


o 


«2 © 


ioJ 


* 


CD 





CO © 
_; -d 



CO 



» © s 



^d'§2 

fflO.O © 



o « 

M 

O s 

Si 



o 

t- S-l 

CO o 

• d 

s3 



be 

I -ib 



^ s o 

to _, O 



SSM 



si? s 



«Q M 




H 


d 




d 


8 © 


bJO 


Sonn 


in 

O 




hJ 


? t 


© 


«8 « ■ 


?! 


£8^ 83 S? 


M 


-+ 8 ccf* 


Ph 


CO CO 





INTRODUCTION. 



47 



£ § 

"T\ GO 



p « 



o 33 
o o 



88 « W> P p 

w § .2 ^ © 

SMS 









P 








ed 




S 




h-1 


_ ; 


rO 




+j 


p 


CS 




93 


-f 






3 


^ 


S © 


r 


Ph 


h^ 




,C 





+3 


?§ 


43 


93 


93 


Ph^ 


> 


>» 


■z 




m 


- 




z% 


(N 


IQ 


. S3 


l- 


as 










EH 


M H 


v 


* 




wtfj 






'- 


CO 


r- 


o 


co 


co 




i- 



CO CO CO CO 



•SO TS.™ 



O lO ^ 



8l 

CO 



p ft 

* 3 

4-3 ~ 

CD ^ 



CJ o 

1 1 






^p 

GQ 

. p 



.2. 03 '*-* 

■■■sf 



N 






CO 

1) 00 CO 

s 

o 

3 



s-. 



IC 



N^i 



an 



88 rt & 

T— I « 

t- bJO 



PhS 



48 INTR OD UCTION. 



VI. AIDS TO THE STUDY OF MILTON. 

Only a few of the more prominent books on Milton can 
here be mentioned. 

i. Lives. 

Brooke, Milton, Classical Writers Series. (Appleton.) 
Pattison, Milton, English Men of Letters Series. (Harper.) 
Garnett, John Milton, Great Writers Series. (Scribner.) 
Johnson, Life of Milton, with notes by C. H. Frith. (Mac- 

millan.) 
Masson, Life of John Milton, 6 vols. (Macmillan.) 

The Lives by Brooke, Pattison, and Garnett are cheap and 
excellent. That by Garnett contains an extensive bibliography. 
Johnson's has chiefly an historical interest. Masson's is the 
authoritative work ; notwithstanding the somewhat unfavor- 
able review by Lowell, it is indispensable to the scholar, 
though too diffuse and circumstantial for ordinary use. 

2. Editions. 

Poetical Works, edited by Masson. (Macmillan.) 
Poetical Works, Globe edition, edited by Masson. (Mac- 
millan.) 
Prose Works, edited by St. John, Bohn edition. (Macmillan.) 
Treasures from Milton's Prose. (Ticknor & Fields.) 
English Prose Writings, edited by H. Morley. (Routledge.) 

The Globe edition of the poetry should be in the hands of 
every student, and the present work assumes that it is at least 
accessible to all. The other editions by Masson are each in 
three volumes, in two forms, at $5.00 and $10.00 respectively. 

The Treasures from Milton's Prose may now be somewhat 
difficult to obtain. It is an interesting book, and no student 
of Milton can afford to be ignorant of so much of the author's 
prose as it contains. Morley's selections will answer, if the 
Treasures cannot be obtained. 



INTRODUCTION. 49 

3. Essays. 

Besides those from which extracts are made in the Intro- 
duction, Addison's Spectator papers (edited by Cook; Ginn 
& Co.) and Macaulay's essay may be read with advantage. 
References to many others will be found in the Bibliography 
appended to Garnett's Life. 

4. Lexicon. 

Lock wood, Lexicon to the Poetical Works. In prepai-ation. 
(Macrnillan.) 

5. Concordance. 

Bradshaw, Concordance to the Poetical Works. (Macrnillan.) 

6. History of the Times. 

Green, Short History of the English People. 
Gardiner, The Puritan Revolution, Epochs of Modern History 
Series. (Longman.) 



THE VERSE. 

The measure is English heroic verse without rime, as 
that of Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin — rime being 
no necessary adjunct or true ornament of poem or good verse, 
in longer works especially, but the invention of a barbarous 
age to set off wretched matter and lame metre ; graced indeed 
since by the use of some famous modern poets, carried away 
by custom, but much .to their own vexation, hindrance, and 
constraint, to express many things otherwise, and for the most 
part worse, than else they would have expressed them. Not 
without cause, therefore, some both Italian and Spanish poets 
of prime note have rejected rime both in longer and shorter 
works, as have also, long since, our best English tragedies, as 
a thing of itself to all judicious ears trivial and of no true 
musical delight ; which consists only in apt numbers, fit quan- 
tity of syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one 
verse into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings — 
a fault avoided by the learned ancients both in poetry and all 
good oratory. This neglect then of rime so little is to be 
taken for a defect, though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar 
readers, that it rather is to be esteemed an example set, the 
first in English, of ancient liberty recovered to heroic poem 
from the troublesome and modern bondage of riming. 



THE ARGUMENT. 

The First Book proposes first [1] in brief the whole subject — 
Man's disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise, wherein he 
was placed ; then touches the prime cause [27] of his fall, the Ser- 
pent, or rather Satan in the Serpent; who revolting [36] from God, 
and drawing to his side many legions of Angels, was by the command 
of God driven out of Heaven, with all his crew, into the great Deep. 
Which action passed over, the poem hastes into the midst of things, 
presenting Satan [50] with his Angels now fallen into Hell, described 
here not in the Centre (for Heaven and Earth may be supposed as 
yet not made, certainly not yet accursed), but in a place of utter dark- 
ness, fitliest called Chaos. Here Satan with his Angels lying on the 
burning lake, thunderstruck and astonished, after a certain space 
recovers, as from confusion, calls up him [79] who next in order and 
dignity lay by him ; they confer of their miserable fall. Satan awa- 
kens all his legions [299] , who lay till then in the same manner con- 
founded. They rise [331] ; their numbers [338] ; array of battle [347, 
522] ; their chief leaders named [376], according to the idols known 
afterwards in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To these Satan 
[589] directs his speech [621], comforts them with hope yet of regain- 
ing Heaven [637] , but tells them lastly of a new World and new kind 
of creature to be created [651], according to an ancient prophecy or 
report in Heaven ; for that Angels were long before this visible crea- 
tion was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To find out the truth 
of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full 
council [660]. What his associates thence attempt [671]. Pandemo- 
nium, the palace of Satan, rises [710], suddenly built out of the Deep; 
the infernal Peers there sit [752] in council. 



PARADISE LOST. 

BOOK I. 

Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste vocation 

Brought death into the World, and all our woe, 
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 5 

Sing, Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top 
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed 
In the beginning how the Heavens and Earth 
Rose out of Chaos ; or, if Sion hill 10 

Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed 
Fast by the oracle of God, I thence 
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, 
That with no middle flight intends to soar 
Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues 15 

Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. 
And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer 
Before all temples the upright heart and pure, 
Instruct me, for Thou know'st ; Thou from the first 
Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, 
Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss, 21 
And mad'st it pregnant : what in me is dark, 
Illumine ; what is low, raise and support ; 
That, to the highth of this great argument, 

53 



54 



PARADISE LOST 



I may assert Eternal Providence, 
And justify the ways of God to men. 



Fall 
demanded 



Say first — for Heaven hides nothing from thy 
view, 

Cause of the Nor the deep tract of Hell — say first what cause 
Moved our grand Parents, in that happy state, 
Favored of Heaven so highly, to fall off 30 

From their Creator, and transgress His will 
For one restraint, lords of the World besides. 
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt ? 

The infernal Serpent ; he it was whose guile, 
Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived 35 
The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host 
Of rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring 
To set himself in glory above his peers, 
He trusted to have equaled the Most High, 40 

If He opposed, and, with ambitious aim 
Against the throne and monarchy of God, 
Raised impious war in Heaven and battle proud, 
With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power 
Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, 45 
With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell 
In adamantine chains and penal fire, 
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. 



Satan ; his 
overthrow 
and its 
result. 



Nine times the space that measures day and 
night 50 

To mortal men, he, with his horrid crew, 
Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf, 



BOOK I. 55 

Confounded, though immortal. But his doom 

Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought 

Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 55 

Torments him ; round he throws his baleful eyes, 

That witnessed huge affliction and dismay, 

Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate. 

At once, as far as Angel's ken, he views „ . , 

' ° Satan in the 

The dismal situation waste and wild. 60 fi ery pr i S on of 

A dungeon horrible on all sides round Hel1 - 

As one great furnace flamed ; yet from those 

flames 
No light ; 'but rather darkness visible 
Served only to discover sights of woe, 
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 65 
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes 
That comes to all, but torture without end 
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 
With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed. 
Such place Eternal Justice had prepared 70 

For those rebellious ; here their prison ordained 
In utter darkness, and their portion set, 
As far removed from God and light of Heaven, 
As from the centre thrice to the utmost pole. 74 
Oh how unlike the place from whence they fell ! 
There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelmed 
With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, 
He soon discerns ; and, weltering by his side, 
One next himself in power, and next in crime, 
Long after known in Palestine, and named 80 

Beelzebub. To whom the Arch-Enemy, Beelzebub, 

And thence in Heaven called Satan, with bold Satan's near- 
words est mate ' 



56 PARADISE LOST. 

Breaking the horrid silence, thus began : — 

< If thou beest he — but oh how fallen ! how 

changed 
From him who, in the happy realms of light, & 
Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst out- 
shine 
Myriads, though bright ! — if he, whom mutual 

league, 
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
And hazard in the glorious enterprise, 
Joined with me once, now misery hath joined 90 
In equal ruin — into what pit thou seest 
From what highth fallen — so much the stronger 

proved 
He with His thunder ; and till then who knew 
The force of those dire arms? Yet not for 

those, 
Satan reveals Nor what the potent Victor in His rage 95 

his character. Q an e i se inflict, do I repent, or change, 

Though changed in outward lustre, that fixed 

mind, 
And high disdain from sense of injured merit 
That with the Mightiest raised me to contend, 
And to the fierce contention brought along 100 
Innumerable force of spirits armed, 
That durst dislike His reign, and, me preferring, 
His utmost power with adverse power opposed 
In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven, 
And shook His throne. What though the field 

be lost ? 105 

All is not lost — the unconquerable will, 
And study of revenge, immortal hate, 



BOOK I. 57 



And courage never to submit or yield, 
And what is else not to be overcome ; 
That glory never shall His wrath or might no 

Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace 
With suppliant knee, and deify His power 
Who, from the terror of this arm, so late 
Doubted His empire — that were low indeed ; 
That were an ignominy and shame beneath 115 
This downfall ; since, by fate, the strength of Gods, 
And this empyreal substance, cannot fail ; 
Since, through experience of this great event, 
In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced, 
We may with more successful hope resolve 120 
To wage by force or guile eternal war, 
Irreconcilable to our grand Foe, 
Who now triumphs, and in the excess of joy 
Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven.' 

So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain, 125 
Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair ; 
And him thus answered soon his bold compeer : — 

1 O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers 
That led the embattled Seraphim to war 
Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds 130 

Fearless, endangered Heaven's perpetual King, 
And put to proof His high supremacy, 
Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate ! 
Too well I see and rue the dire event 
That, with sad overthrow and foul defeat, 135 

Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host 
In horrible destruction laid thus low, 
As far as Gods and Heavenly Essences 
Can perish — for the mind and spirit remains 



Beelzebub's 
gloomy ques- 
tioning. 



58 PARADISE LOST. 

Invincible, and vigor soon returns, 140 

Though all our glory extinct, and happy state 
Here swallowed up in endless misery. 
But what if He our Conqueror (whom I now 
Of force believe almighty, since no less 
Than such could have o'erpowered such force as 
ours) 145 

Have left us this our spirit and strength entire, 
Strongly to suffer and support our pains, 
That we may so suffice His vengeful ire, 
Or do him mightier service as His thralls 
By right of war, whate'er His business be, 150 

Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire, 
Or do His errands in the gloomy Deep ? 
What can it then avail, though yet we feel 
Strength undiminished, or eternal being 
To undergo eternal punishment ? ' 155 

Whereto with speedy words the Arch-Fiend 
replied : — 
' Fallen Cherub, to be weak is miserable, 
Doing or suffering ; but of this be sure — 
To do aught good never will be our task, 
But ever to do ill our sole delight, 16 ° 

As being the contrary to His high will 
Whom we resist. If then His providence 
Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, 
s . , Our labor must be to pervert that end, 

indomitable And out of good still to find means of evil ; 165 
purpose. Which ofttimes may succeed so as perhaps 

Shall grieve Him, if I fail not, and disturb 
His inmost counsels from their destined aim. 
But see ! the angry Victor hath recalled 



BOOK I. 59 

His ministers of vengeance and pursuit 1TO 

Back to the gates of Heaven ; the sulphurous hail, 

Shot after us in storm, o'erblown hath laid 

The fiery surge that from the precipice 

Of Heaven received us falling ; and the thunder, 

Winged with red lightning and impetuous rage, 175 

Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now 

To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep. 

Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn 

Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe. 

Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 18 ° 

The seat of desolation, void of light, 

Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 

Casts pale and dreadful ? Thither let us tend 

From off the tossing of these fiery waves ; 

There rest, if any rest can harbor there ; 185 

And, reassembling our afflicted powers, 

Consult how we may henceforth most offend 

Our Enemy, our own loss how repair, 

How overcome this dire calamity, 

What reinforcement we may gain from hope, 19 ° 

If not, what resolution from despair.' 

Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate, 
With head uplift above the wave, and eyes 
That sparkling blazed ; his other parts besides 
Prone on the flood, extended long and large, 195 
Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge His huge 

As whom the fables name of monstrous size, bulk. 

Titanian, or Earth-born, that warred on Jove, 
Briareos, or Typhon, whom the den 
By ancient Tarsus held ; or that sea-beast 200 

Leviathan, which God of all his works 



60 PARADISE LOST. 

Created hugest that swim the ocean stream. 

Him, haply slumbering on the Norway foam, 

The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff, 

Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, 205 

AYith fixed anchor in his scaly rind, 

Moors by his side under the lee, while night 

Invests the sea, and wished morn delays. 

So stretched out huge in length the Arch-Fiend 

lay, 
Chained on the burning lake ; nor ever thence 21 ° 
Had risen, or heaved his head, but that the will 
And high permission of all-ruling Heaven 
Left him at large to his own dark designs, 
That with reiterated crimes he might 
Heap on himself damnation, while he sought 215 
Evil to others, and enraged might see 
How all his malice served but to bring forth 
Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy, shown 
On man by him seduced, but on himself 
Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance poured. 220 

Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool 
His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames 
Driven backward slope their pointing spires, and, 

rolled 

In billows, leave i' the midst a horrid vale. 

Then with expanded wings he steers his flight 225 

Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air, 

That felt unusual weight ; till on dry land 

He lights — if it were land that ever burned 

With solid, as the lake with liquid fire, 

The burning ^nd guc ] 1 a pp eare d in hue as when the force 230 
land on which _„ . . , , .,, 

they alight, O f subterranean wind transports a hill 



BOOK I. 61 

Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side 

Of thundering iEtna, whose combustible 

And fueled entrails thence conceiving fire, 

Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds, 235 

And leave a singed bottom, all involved 

With stench and smoke. Such resting found the 

sole 
Of unblest feet. Him followed his next mate ; 
Both glorying to have scaped the Stygian flood 
As gods, and by their own recovered strength, 240 
Not by the sufferance of supernal power. 

' Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,' 
Said then the lost Archangel, ' this the seat 
That we must change for Heaven ? — this mourn- 
ful gloom 
For that celestial light ? Be it so, since He 245 
Who now is sovran can dispose and bid 
What shall be right ; farthest from Him is best, 
Whom reason hath equaled, force hath made 

supreme 
Above His equals. Farewell, happy fields, 
Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail, 250 

Infernal World ! and thou, profoundest Hell, Satan's 

acceptance of 
Receive thy new possessor — one who brings circum- 

A mind not to be changed by place or time ; stances. 

The mind is its own place, and in itself 

Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. 255 

What matter where, if I be still the same, 

And what I should be, all but less than He 

Whom thunder hath made greater ? Here at least 

We shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built 

Here for His envy, will not drive us hence ; 260 



62 



PARADISE LOST. 



Beelzebub's 
confidence in 
Satan's power 
to inspire. 



Satan's spear 
and shield. 



Here we may reign secure ; and, in my choice, 
To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell ; 
Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. 
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, 
The associates and copartners of our loss, 265 

Lie thus astonished on the oblivious pool, 
And call them not to share with us their part 
In this unhappy mansion, or once more 
With rallied arms to try what may be yet 
Regained in Heaven, or w T hat more lost in Hell ? ' 

So Satan spake ; and him Beelzebub 271 

Thus answered : — ' Leader of those armies bright 
Which, but the Omnipotent, none could have 

foiled ! 
If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge 
Of hope in fears and dangers — heard so oft 275 
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge 
Of battle, when it raged, in all assaults 
Their surest signal — they will soon resume 
New courage and revive, though now they lie 
Groveling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, 280 
As we erewhile, astounded and amazed ; 
No wonder, fallen such a pernicious highth.' 

He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend 
Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous 

shield, 
Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, 285 

Behind him cast. The broad circumference 
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, w 7 hose orb 
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views 
At evening, from the top of Fesole, 
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 290 



BOOK I. 63 

Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. 
His spear — to equal which the tallest pine 
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast 
Of some great ammiral, were but a wand — 
He walked with, to support uneasy steps 295 

Over the burning marl, — not like those steps 
On Heaven's azure ; and the torrid clime 
Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire. 

iSTathless he so endured, till on the beach 
Of that inflamed sea he stood, and called 300 

His legions — Angel Forms, who lay entranced _,, 
Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks G f his reclin- 
In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades ing host. 

High overarched embower ; or scattered sedge 
Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion armed 305 
Hath vexed the Red Sea coast, whose waves 

o'erthrew 
Busiris and his Memphian chivalry, 
While with perfidious hatred they pursued 
The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld 
From the safe shore their floating carcasses 310 
And broken chariot-wheels. So thick bestrown, 
Abject and lost, lay these, covering the flood, 
Under amazement of their hideous change. 

He called so loud that all the hollow deep 
Of Hell resounded : — * Princes, Potentates, 315 
Warriors, the Flower of Heaven — once yours, 

now lost, 
If such astonishment as this can seize 
Eternal Spirits I Or have ye chosen this place 
After the toil of battle to repose 
Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 320 



64 



PARADISE LOST. 



Satan rouses 
Ms followers 
with taunts. 



The numbers 
of his flying 
host. 



To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven ? 
Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 
To adore the Conqueror, who now beholds 
Cherub and Seraph rolling in the flood 
With scattered arms and ensigns, till anon 325 
His swift pursuers from Heaven-gates discern 
The advantage, and, descending, tread us down 
Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts 
Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf ? — 
Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen ! ' 330 

They heard, and were abashed, and up they 
sprung 
Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch, 
On duty sleeping found by whom they dread, 
Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. 
Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 335 

In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel ; 
Yet to their General's voice they soon obeyed 
Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day, 
Waved round the coast, upcalled a pitchy cloud 
Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind, 341 

That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
Like Night, and darkened all the land of Nile : 
So numberless were those bad Angels seen 
Hovering on wing under the cope of Hell, 345 

'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires ; 
Till, as a signal given, the uplifted spear 
Of their great Sultan waving to direct 
Their course, in even balance down they light 
On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain, — 350 
A multitude like which the populous North 



BOOK I. 65 

Poured never from her frozen loins to pass 
Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous sons 
Came like a deluge on the South, and spread 
Beneath Gibraltar to the Libyan sands. 355 

Forthwith from every squadron and each band, 

The heads and leaders thither haste where stood 

Their great Commander — Godlike Shapes, and 

Forms 

Excelling human ; Princely Dignities ; 359 

And Powers that erst in Heaven sat on thrones, 

Though of their names in Heavenly records now 

Be no memorial, blotted out and rased ™ . <. 

The infernal 
By their rebellion from the Books of Life. leaders. 

Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve 

Got them new names, till, wandering o'er the 

earth, 365 

Through God's high sufferance for the trial of 

man, 

By falsities and lies the greatest part 

Of mankind they corrupted to forsake 

God their Creator, <and the invisible 

Glory of Him that made them to transform 370 

Oft to the image of a brute, adorned 

With gay religions full of pomp and gold, — 

And devils to adore for deities ; 

Then were they known to men by various names 

And various idols, through the heathen world. 375 

Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, 

who last, Th * f use in " 

voked. 

Roused from the slumber on that fiery couch, 
At their great Emperor's call, as next in worth 



66 



PARADISE LOST. 



Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, 
While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 380 



The chief 
leaders, after- 
wards gods 
of the 
heathen. 



Moloch. 



The chief were those who, from the pit of Hell 
Roaming to seek their prey on Earth, durst fix 
Their seats, long after, next the seat of God, 
Their altars by His altar, gods adored 
Among the nations round, and durst abide 385 
Jehovah thundering out of Sion, throned 
Between the Cherubim ; yea, often placed 
Within His sanctuary itself their shrines, 
Abominations ; and with cursed things 
His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, 39 ° 

And with their darkness durst affront His light. 

First, Moloch, horrid king, besmeared with 
blood 
Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears — 
Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, 
Their children's cries unheard that passed through 
fire 3 95 

To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 
Worshiped in Rabba and her watery plain, 
In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
Of utmost Anion. Xor content with such 
Audacious neighborhood, the wisest heart m 

Of Solomon he led by fraud to build 
His temple right against the temple of God 
On that opprobrious hill, and made his grove 
The pleasant valley of Hinnom, Tophet thence 
And black Gehenna called, the type of Hell. 4 °5 

Next, Chemos, the obscene dread of Moab's 
sons, 



BOOK L 67 

From Aroar to Nebo and the wild 

Of southmost Abarim; in Hesebon 

And Horonaim, Seon's realm, beyond Cliemos, or 

The flowery dale of Sibma clad with vines, *io Peor - 

And Eleale to the Asphaltic Pool — 

Peor his other name, when he "enticed 

Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, 

To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe — 

Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged 415 

Even to that hill of scandal, by the grove 

Of Moloch homicide — lust hard by hate — 

Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell. 

With these came they who, from the bordering 

flood 
Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 420 

Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
Of Baalim and Ashtaroth — those male, 
These feminine. For Spirits, when they please, 
Can either sex assume, or both ; so soft 

And uncompounded is their essence pure, 425 Ashtarothf 

Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, 
Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, 
Like cumbrous flesh; but, in what shape they 

choose, 
Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, 
Can execute their aery purposes, 430 

And works of love or enmity fulfil. 
For those the race of Israel oft forsook 
Their Living Strength, and unfrequented left 
His righteous altar, bowing lowly down 
To bestial gods ; for which their heads, as low 435 
Bowed down in battle, sunk before the spear 
Of despicable foes. 



Adonis. 



68 PARADISE LOST. 

With these in troop 
Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians called 
Astarte, queen of heaven, with crescent horns ; 
To whose bright image nightly by the moon *«> 

Astoreth. Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs ; 

In Sion also not unsung, where stood 
Her temple on the offensive mountain, built 
By that uxorious king whose heart, though large, 
Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell **5 

To idols foul. 

Thammuz came next behind, 
Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured 

Thammuz, or The Syrian damsels to lament his fate 
In amorous ditties all a summer's day, 
While smooth Adonis from his native rock 450 
Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood 
Of Thammuz yearly wounded ; the love-tale 
Infected Sion's daughters with like heat, 
Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch 
Ezekiel saw, when, by the vision led, 455 

His eye surveyed the dark idolatries 
Of alienated Judah. 

Next came one 
Who mourned in earnest, when the captive ark 
Maimed his brute image, head and hands lopped 

off 
In his own temple, on the grunsel edge, 46 ° 

Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshipers ; 
Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man 
And downward fish ; yet had his temple high 
Reared in Azotus, dreaded through the coast 
Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, 465 



Dagon. 



BOOK I. 69 

And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. 

Him followed Bimmon, whose delightful seat 
Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks 
Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. 
He also against the house of God was bold ; 470 
A leper once he lost, and gained a king — Rimmon. 

Ahaz, his sottish conqueror, whom he drew 
God's altar to disparage and displace 
For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn 
His odious offerings, and adore the gods 475 

Whom he had vanquished. 

After these appeared 
A crew who, under names of old renown — Osiris, Isis, 

Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train — 0rus - 

With monstrous shapes and sorceries abused 
Fanatic Egypt and her priests to seek 480 

Their wandering gods disguised in brutish forms 
Rather than human. Nor did Israel scape 
The infection, when their borrowed gold composed 
The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 
Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 485 

Likening his Maker to the grazed ox — 
Jehovah, who, in one night, when he passed 
From Egypt marching, equaled with one stroke 
Both her first-born and all her bleating gods. 

Belial came last, than whom a Spirit more 
lewd 490 

Fell not from heaven, or more gross to love 
Vice for itself. To him no temple stood, 
Or altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he 
In temples and at altars, when the priest Belial 

Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who filled 495 



70 PARADISE LOST. 

With lust and violence the house of God ? 

In courts and palaces he also reigns, 

And in luxurious cities, where the noise 

Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, 

And injury and outrage ; and, when night 500 

Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 

Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine — 

Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 

In Gibeah, when the hospitable door 

Exposed a matron, to avoid worse rape. 505 

These were the prime in order and in might ; 
The rest were long to tell, though far renowned 
The Ionian gods — of Javan's issue held 
Gods, yet confessed later than Heaven and Earth, 
Their boasted parents ; — Titan, Heaven's first- 
born, 510 
Greece. With his enormous brood, and birthright seized 
By younger Saturn ; he from mightier Jove, 
His own and Rhea's son, like measure found ; 
So Jove usurping reigned. These, first in Crete 
And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 515 
Of cold Olympus ruled the middle air, 
Their highest heaven ; or on the Delphian cliff, 
Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 
Of Doric land ; or who with Saturn old 
Fled over Adria to the Hesperian fields, 520 
And o'er the Celtic roamed the utmost isles. 
All these and more came flocking, but with 
looks 
Downcast and damp ; yet such wherein appeared 
Obscure some glimpse of joy to have found their 
Chief 



BOOK I. 71 / 



Not in despair, to have found themselves not 

lost 525 

In loss itself ; which on his countenance cast 

Like doubtful hue. But he, his wonted pride 

Soon re-collecting, with high words, that bore 

Semblance of worth, not substance, gently raised 

Their fainting courage, and dispelled their fears, 530 

Then straight commands that, at the warlike sound 

_ •,,,,. i i The array of 

Of trumpets loud and clarions, be upreared battle. 

His mighty standard. That proud honor claimed 

Azazel as his right, a Cherub tall, 

Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled 535 

The imperial ensign ; which, full high advanced, 

Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind, 

With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed, 

Seraphic arms and trophies — all the while 

Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds — 540 

At which the universal host up-sent 

A shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyond 

Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 

All in a moment through the gloom were seen 

Ten thousand banners rise into the air, 545 

With orient colors waving ; with them rose 

A forest huge of spears ; and thronging helms 

Appeared, and serried shields in thick array 

Of depth immeasurable. 

Anon they move 

In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 550 

Of flutes and soft recorders — such as raised 

To highth of noblest temper heroes old 

Arming to battle, and instead of rage 

Deliberate valor breathed, firm, and unmoved 



72 PARADISE LOST. 

Their Dorian With dread of death to flight or foul retreat ; 555 
martial -^ or wan ti n g power to mitigate and swage 

With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase 
Anguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and 

pain 
From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, 
Breathing united force with fixed thought, 560 

Moved on in silence to soft pipes that charmed 
Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil. 

And now 
Advanced in view they stand, a horrid front 
Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 
Of warriors old, with ordered spear and shield, 565 
The review of Awaiting what command their mighty Chief 
the infernal Had to impose. He through the armed files 
Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse 
The whole battalion views, their order due, 
Their visages and stature as of gods ; 570 

Their number last he sums. And now his heart 
Distends with pride, and, hardening in his strength, 
Glories ; for never, since created Man, 
Met such embodied force as, named with these, 
Could merit more than that small infantry 575 

Warred on by cranes — though all the giant brood 
Of Phlegra with the heroic race were joined 
That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 

Their 

superiority to -^ xe d with auxiliar gods ; and what resounds 
all human In fable or romance of Uther's son, 580 

armies. Begirt with British and Armoric knights ; 

And all who since, baptized or infidel, 
Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, 
Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 



BOOK I. 73 

Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore 585 

When Charlemain with all his peerage fell 

By Fontarabiba. 

Thus far these beyond 

>mpare of mortal prowess, yet observed 

lieir dread Commander. He, above the rest 

In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 590 

Stood like a tower. His form had yet not lost 

All her original brightness, nor appeared 

iess than Archangel ruined, and the excess 

glory obscured — as when the sun new-risen 

Looks through the horizontal misty air 595 The ruined 

i i • i i g lor T of their 

Shorn of his beams, or, from behind the moon, commander. 

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 

On half the nations, and with fear of change 

Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone 

Above them all the Archangel ; but his face 600 

Deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and care 

Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows 

Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride 

Waiting revenge. Cruel his eye, but cast 

Signs of remorse and passion, to behold 605 

The fellows of his crime, the followers rather 

(Far other once beheld in bliss), condemned 

For ever now to have their lot in pain — 

Millions of Spirits for his fault amerced 

Of Heaven, and from eternal splendors flung 610 

For his revolt — yet faithful how they stood, 

Their glory withered ; as when heaven's fire 

Hath scathed the forest oaks or mountain pines, 

With singed top their stately growth, though bare, 

Stands on the blasted heath. 



74 



PARADISE LOST. 



He prepares 
to speak. 



Their strife 
was glorious. 



The issue was 
uuexpected. 



They may yet 
return. 



Fraud must 
effect what 
force could 
not. 



He now prepared 615 
To speak ; whereat their doubled ranks they bend 
From wing to wing, and half enclose him round 
With all his peers ; attention held them mute. 
Thrice he essayed, and thrice, in spite of scorn, 
Tears, such as Angels weep, burst forth ; at last 620 
Words interwove with sighs found out their way: — 

1 O myriads of immortal Spirits ! O Powers 
Matchless, but with the Almighty ! — and that 

strife 
Was not inglorious, though the event was dire, 
As this place testifies, and this dire change 625 
Hateful to utter. But what power of mind, 
Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth 
Of knowledge past or present, could have feared 
How such united force of gods, how such 
As stood like these, could ever know repulse ? 630 
For who can yet believe, though after loss, 
That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
Hath emptied Heaven, shall fail to reascend 
Self -raised, and repossess their native seat? 
For me, be witness all the host of Heaven, 635 

If counsels different, or danger shunned 
By me, have lost our hopes. But He who reigns 
Monarch in Heaven, till then as one secure 
Sat on His throne, upheld by old repute, 
Consent, or custom, and His regal state 640 

Put forth at full, but still His strength concealed — 
Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
Henceforth His might we know, and know our 

own, 
So as not either to provoke, or dread 



BOOK I. 75 

New war provoked ; our better part remains 645 
To work in close design, by fraud or guile, 
What force effected not ; that He no less 
At length from us may find, who overcomes 
By force hath overcome but half his foe. 
Space may produce new worlds ; whereof so 

rife 650 

There went a fame in Heaven that He ere long The new 

world 

Intended to create, and therein plant mentioned. 

A generation whom his choice regard 

Should favor equal to the Sons of Heaven. 

Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps 655 

Our first eruption — thither, or elsewhere ; 

For this infernal pit shall never hold They must 

Celestial Spirits in bondage, nor the Abyss escape. 

Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts 

& & No thought of 

1 ull counsel must mature. Peace is despaired ; 660 su braission. 

For who can think submission ? War, then, war 

Open or understood, must be resolved.' 

He spake ; and, to confirm his words, outflew 

Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs The flash of 

Of mighty Cherubim ; the sudden blaze 665 sword s and 

° J smiting of 

Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged shields. 

Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms 

Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war, 

Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven. 

There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 670 
Belched fire and rolling smoke ; the rest entire 
Shone with a glossy scurf — undoubted sign 
That in his womb was hid metallic ore, 
The work of sulphur. Thither, winged with speed, pr0 jected. 



76 



PARADISE LOST. 



Mammon. 



They mine, 
and smelt, 
and cast. 



A numerous brigade hastened, as when bands 675 
Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe armed, 
Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, 
Or cast a rampart. 

Mammon led them on — 
Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 
From Heaven ; for even in Heaven his looks and 
thoughts 680 

Were always downward bent, admiring more 
The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed 
In vision beatific. By him first 
Men also, and by his suggestion taught, Q85 

Ransacked the Centre, and with impious hands 
Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth 
For treasures better hid. 

Soon had his crew 
Opened into the hill a spacious wound, 
And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire 600 
That riches grow in Hell ; that soil may best 
Deserve the precious bane. And here let those 
Who boast in mortal things, and wondering tell 
Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings, 
Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, 695 
And strength, and art, are easily outdone 
By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour 
What in an age they, with incessant toil 
And hands innumerable, scarce perform. 
Nigh on the plain, in many cells prepared, 
That underneath had veins of liquid fire 
Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 
With wondrous art founded the massy ore, 



700 



BOOK L 77 

Severing each kind, and scummed the bullion 

dross. 
A third as soon had formed within the ground 705 
A various mold, and from the boiling cells 
By strange conveyance filled each hollow nook ; 
As in an organ, from one blast of wind, 
To many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes. 
Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 710 

Rose like an exhalation, with the sound 
Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet — 
Built like a temple, where pilasters round 
Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid 
With golden architrave ; nor did there want 715 
Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven ; The al f 
The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon Pandemon- 

Nor great Alcairo such magnificence lum nses - 

Equaled in all their glories, to enshrine 
Belus or Serapis their gods, or seat 720 

Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 
In wealth and luxury. The ascending pile 
Stood fixed her stately highth ; and straight the 

doors, 
Opening their brazen folds, discover, wide 
Within, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 725 

And level pavement ; from the arched roof 
Pendent by subtle magic, many a row 
Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed 
With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light 
As from a sky. 

The hasty multitude 730 

Admiring entered ; and the work some praise, 
And some the architect. His hand was known 



78 PARADISE LOST. 

In Heaven by many a towered structure high, 

Where sceptred Angels held their residence, 

And sat as Princes, whom the Supreme King 735 

Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, 

Each in his hierarchy, the Orders bright. 
The architect , J ' & 

was Mulciber, Nor was his name unheard or unadored 

otherwise J n ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land 
Vulcan* S ° r ^ en ca ^ e( ^ n ^ m Mulciber ; and how he fell 740 
From heaven they fabled, thrown by angry Jove 
Sheer o'er the crystal battlements ; from morn 
To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 
A summer's day ; and with the setting sun 
Dropped from the zenith, like a falling star, 745 
On Lemnos, the iEgaean isle. Thus they relate, 
Erring; for he with this rebellious rout 
Fell long before ; nor aught availed him now 
To have built in Heaven high towers ; nor did he 

scape 
By all his engines, but was headlong sent, 750 

With his industrious crew, to build in Hell. 



Meanwhile the winged Heralds, by command 
Of sovran power, with awful ceremony 
And trumpet's sound, throughout the host pro- 
claim 
A solemn council forthwith to be held 755 

At Pandemonium, the high capital 
Of Satan and his peers. Their summons called 
From every band and squared regiment 
By place or choice the worthiest ; they, anon, 
With hundreds and with thousands trooping 



The summons 
to the council. 



The infernal 
estates con- 
vene, came 



BOOK I. 79 

Attended. All access was thronged ; the gates 
And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall 
(Though like a covered field, where champions 

bold 
Wont ride in armed, and at the Soldan's chair 
Defied the best of Paynim chivalry 765 

To mortal combat, or career with lance), 
Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air, 
Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees 
In spring-time, when the sun with Taurus rides, 
Pour forth their populous youth about the hive 77 ° The swarms 
In clusters ; they among fresh dews and flowers of lesser 
Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, 
The suburb of their straw-built citadel, 
New rubbed with balm, expatiate, and confer 
Their state affairs ; so thick the aery crowd 775 
Swarmed and were straitened ; till, the signal 

given, 
Behold a wonder ! They but now who seemed 
In bigness to surpass Earth's giant sons, 
Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 
Throng numberless — like that pygmean race 780 Their tran& . 
Beyond the Indian mount ; or faery elves, formation. 

Whose midnight revels by a forest-side 
Or fountain some belated peasant sees, 
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the Moon 
Sits arbitress, and nearer to the Earth 785 

Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and 

dance 
Intent, with jocund music charm his ear ; 
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. 
Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms 



80 PARADISE LOST. 

Reduced their shapes immense, and were at 

large, 790 

Though without number still, amidst the hall 
Of that infernal court. 

But far within, 
And in their own dimensions, like themselves, 
The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim 
In close recess and secret conclave sat — 795 The inner 

A thousand demigods on golden seats — 
Frequent and full. After short silence then, 
And summons read, the great consult began. 



conclave. 



THE ARGUMENT. 

The consultation begun, Satan debates [11] wbether another battle 
be to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven ; some advise it [42] , 
others dissuade [108]. A third proposal [299] is preferred [386], men- 
tioned before by Satan — to search the truth of that prophecy or 
tradition in Heaven concerning another world, and another kind 
of creature, equal, or not much inferior, to themselves, about this 
time to be created. Their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult 
search [417] ; Satan, their chief, undertakes alone [426] the voyage ; 
is honored and applauded [477]. The council thus ended [506], the 
rest betake them several ways, and to several employments, as their 
inclinations lead them [523], to entertain the time till Satan return. 
He passes on his journey [629] to Hell-gates; finds them shut, and 
who sat there to guard them [648] ; by whom at length they are 
opened [831], and discover to him the great Gulf between Hell and 
Heaven [890]. With what difficulty he passes through [927], directed 
by Chaos, the Power of that place, to the sight of this new World 
[1051] which he sought. 



PARADISE LOST. 

BOOK II. 

High on a throne of royal state, which far 

Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, 

Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand 

Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, 

Satan exalted sat, by merit raised 5 Satan's royal 

To that bad eminence ; and, from despair 

Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 

Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 

Vain war with Heaven ; and, by success untaught, 

His proud imaginations thus displayed : — 10 

'Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heaven! — 
For, since no deep within her gulf can hold 
Immortal vigor, though oppressed and fallen, 
I give not Heaven for lost ; from this descent 
Celestial Virtues rising will appear 15 

More glorious and more dread than from no fall, 
And trust themselves to fear no second fate ! — 
Me though just right and the fixed laws of Heaven 
Did first create your leader — next, free choice, 
With what besides in council or in fight 20 

Hath been achieved of merit — yet this loss, 
Thus far at least recovered, hath much more 
Established in a safe, unenvied throne, 
Yielded with full consent. The happier state 

83 



84 



PARADISE LOST. 



Satan, as- 
sured of 
eminence in 
danger and 
suffering, in- 
vites counsel 
from his 
associates. 



Moloch's 
fierceness. 



Moloch 
advises open 
war. 



In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw 25 

Envy from each inferior ; but who here 

Will envy whom the highest place exposes 

Foremost to stand against the Thunderer's aim 

Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share 

Of endless pain ? Where there is, then, no good 30 

For which to strive, no strife can grow up there 

From faction ; for none sure will claim in Hell 

Precedence ; none whose portion is so small 

Of present pain that with ambitious mind 

Will covet more. With this advantage, then, 35 

To union and firm faith and firm accord, 

More than can be in Heaven, we now return 

To claim our just inheritance of old, 

Surer to prosper than prosperity 

Could have assured us ; and by what best way, 40 

Whether of open war or covert guile, 

We now debate. Who can advise may speak.' 

He ceased ; and next him Moloch, sceptred king, 
Stood up — the strongest and the fiercest spirit 
That fought in Heaven, now fiercer by despair. 45 
His trust was with the Eternal to be deemed 
Equal in strength, and, rather than be less, 
Cared not to be at all ; with that care lost 
Went all his fear ; of God, or Hell, or worse, 
He recked not, and these words thereafter 

spake : — 50 

« My sentence is for open war. Of wiles, 
More unexpert, I boast not ; them let those 
Contrive who need, or when they need, not now. 
For, while they sit contriving, shall the rest — 
Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait 55 



BOOK II. 85 

The signal to ascend — sit lingering here 
Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place 
Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, 
The prison of His tyranny who reigns 
By our delay ? No, let us rather choose, 60 

Armed with Hell-flames and fury, all at once 
O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way, 
Turning our tortures into horrid arms 
Against the Torturer ; when, to meet the noise 
Of His almighty engine, He shall hear 65 

Infernal thunder, and, for lightning, see 
Black fire and horror shot with equal rage 
Among His Angels, and His throne itself 
Mixed with Tartarean sulphur and strange fire, 
His own invented torments. But perhaps 70 

The way seems difficult, and steep to scale 
With upright wing against a higher Foe ! 
Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench 
Of that forgetful lake benumb not still, 
That in our proper motion we ascend 75 

Up to our native seat ; descent and fall 
To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, 
When the fierce Foe hung on our broken rear 
Insulting, and pursued us through the Deep, 
With what compulsion and laborious flight 80 

We sunk thus low ? The ascent is easy, then ; 
The event is feared ! Should we again provoke 
Our Stronger, some worse way His wrath may find 
To our destruction, if there be in Hell 
Fear to be worse destroyed ! What can be worse 85 
Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, con- 
demned 



86 PABADISE LOST. 

In this abhorred Deep to utter woe — 

Where pain of unextinguishable fire 

Must exercise us without hope of end, 

The vassals of His anger, when the scourge 90 

Inexorably, and the torturing hour, 

Calls us to penance ? More destroyed than thus, 

We should be quite abolished, and expire. 

What fear we then ? what doubt we to incense 

His utmost ire ? which, to the highth enraged, 95 

Will either quite consume us, and reduce 

To nothing this essential — happier far 

Than miserable to have eternal being ! — 

Or, if our substance be indeed divine, 

And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 100 

On this side nothing ; and by proof we feel 

Our power sufficient to disturb His Heaven, 

And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 

Though inaccessible, His fatal throne ; 

Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.' 105 

He ended frowning, and his look denounced 

Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous 

„ ,. , To less than gods. On the other side uprose 

Belial's ° r 

suavity and Belial, in act more graceful and humane. 

duplicity. a fairer person lost not Heaven ; he seemed no 

For dignity composed, and high exploit, 

But all was false and hollow, though his tongue 

Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear 

The better reason, to perplex and dash 

Maturest counsels ; for his thoughts were low — 115 

To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 

Timorous and slothful ; yet he pleased the ear, 

And with persuasive accent thus began : — 



BOOK II. 87 



< I should be much for open war, O Peers, 
As not behind in hate, if what was urged 120 

Main reason to persuade immediate war 
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast 
Ominous conjecture on the whole success — 
When he who most excels in fact of arms, 
In what he counsels and in what excels 125 

Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair 
And utter dissolution, as the scope 
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. 
First, what revenge ? The towers of Heaven are 

filled 
With armed watch, that render all access 130 

Impregnable ; oft on the bordering Deep 
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing- 
Scout far and wide into the realm of Night, 
Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise 135 
With blackest insurrection, to confound 
Heaven's purest light, yet our great Enemy, 
All incorruptible, would on His throne 
Sit unpolluted, and the ethereal mold, 
Incapable of stain, would soon expel 140 

Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, 
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope 
Is flat despair ; we must exasperate 
The Almighty Victor to spend all His rage, 
And that must end us ; that must be our cure — 145 
To be no more. Sad cure ! for who would lose, 
Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost 



88 PARADISE LOST. 

In the wide womb of uncreated Night, 150 

Devoid of sense and motion ? And who knows, 
Let this be good, whether our angry Foe 
Can give it, or will ever? How He can 
Is doubtful ; that He never will is sure. 
Will He, so wise, let loose at once His ire, 155 

Belike through impotence, or unaware, 
To give His enemies their wish, and end 
Them in His anger whom His anger saves 
To punish endless ? " Wherefore cease we then ? " 
Say they who counsel war ; " we are decreed, igo 
Eeserved, and destined to eternal woe ; 
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, 
What can we suffer worse ? " Is this then worst — 
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms ? 
What when we fled amain, pursued and struck 165 
With Heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought 
The Deep to shelter us '. 5?his Hell then seemed 
A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay 
Chained on the burning lake ? That sure was 

worse. 
What if the breath that kindled those grim 

fires, 170 

Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage, 
And plunge us in the flames ? or from above 
Should intermitted vengeance arm again 
His red right hand to plague us ? What if all 
Her stores were opened, and this firmament 175 
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, 
Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall 
One day upon our heads ; while we perhaps, 
Designing or exhorting glorious war, 



BOOK II. 89 

Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled iso 

Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey 

Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk tbe omnipo . 

Under yon boiling ocean, wrapped in chains, tence of God, 

There to converse with everlasting groans, and advocates 

submission 
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, 185 and hopeful 

Ages of hopeless end ? This would be worse. waiting. 

War, therefore, open or concealed, alike 

My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guile 

With Him, or who deceive His mind, whose eye 

Views all things at one view ! He from Heaven's 

highth 190 

All these our motions vain sees and derides, 
Not more almighty to resist our might 
Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. 
Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heaven 
Thus trampled, thus expelled, to suffer here 195 
Chains and these torments? Better these than 

worse, 
By my advice ; since fate inevitable 
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, 
The Victor's will. To suffer, as to do, 
Our strength is equal ; nor the law unjust 200 

That so ordains. This w r as at first resolved, 
If we were wise, against so great a Foe 
Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. 
I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold 
And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and 

fear 205 

What yet they know must follow — to endure 
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, 
The sentence of their Conqueror. This is now 



90 PARADISE LOST. 

Our doom ; which if we can sustain and bear, 

Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit 210 

His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed, 

Not mind us not offending, satisfied 

With what is punished ; whence these raging fires 

Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. 

Our purer essence then will overcome 215 

Their noxious vapor ; or, inured, not feel ; 

Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed 

In temper and in nature, will receive 

Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; 

This horror will grow mild, this darkness light ; 220 

Besides what hope the never-ending flight 

Of future days may bring, what chance, what 

change 
Worth waiting — 'since our present lot appears 
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, 
If we procure not to ourselves more woe.' 225 

Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's 
garb, 
Counseled ignoble ease and peaceful sloth, 
Not peace ; and after him thus Mammon spake : — 

« Either to disenthrone the King of Heaven 
We war, if war be best, or to regain 230 

Our own right lost. Him to unthrone we then 
May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield 
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife. 
The former, vain to hope, argues as vain 
The latter ; for what place can be for us 235 

Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord 

Supreme 
We overpower? Suppose He should relent, 



BOOK II. 91 

And publish grace to all, on promise made 

Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 

Stand in His presence humble, and receive 240 

Strict laws imposed, to celebrate His throne 

With warbled hymns, and to His Godhead sing 

Forced halleluiahs, while He lordly sits 

Our envied Sovran, and His altar breathes 

Ambrosial odors and ambrosial flowers, 245 

Our servile offerings ? This must be our task 

In Heaven, this our delight. How wearisome 

Eternity so spent, in worship paid 

To whom we hate ! Let us not then pursue — 

By force impossible, by leave obtained 250 

Unacceptable — though in Heaven, our state 

Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek 

Our own good from ourselves, and from our own 

Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess, 

Free, and to none accountable, preferring 255 

Hard liberty before the easy yoke 

Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 

Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, 

Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, 

We can create, and in what place soe'er 260 Mammon 

, . counsels in- 

Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain, dependence, 

Through labor and endurance. This deep world organization, 

Of darkness do we dread ? How oft amidst on en - 

ment with 

Thick clouds and dark doth Heaven's all-ruling their lot. 

Sire 
Choose to reside, His glory unobscured, 265 

And with the majesty of darkness round 
Covers His throne, from whence deep thunders 

roar, 



92 



PARADISE LOST. 



Mammon's 

speech 

applauded. 



Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell ! 
As He our darkness, cannot we His light 
Imitate when we please ? This desert soil 270 

Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold ; 
Nor want we skill or art from whence to raise 
Magnificence ; and what can Heaven show more ? 
Our torments also may in length of time 
Become our elements, these piercing fires 275 

As soft as now severe, our temper changed 
Into their temper ; which must needs remove 
The sensible of pain. All things invite 
To peaceful counsels, and the settled state 
Of order, how in safety best we may 280 

Compose our present evils, with regard 
Of what we are, and where, dismissing quite 
All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise.' 
He scarce had finished, when such murmur 
filled 
The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 285 
The sound of blustering winds, which all night long 
Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 
Seafaring men o'erwatched, whose bark by chance, 
Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay 
After the tempest. Such applause was heard 290 
As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, 
Advising peace : for such another field 
They dreaded worse than Hell ; so much the fear 
Of thunder and the sword of Michael 
Wrought still within them ; and no less desire 295 
To found this nether empire, which might rise, 
By policy and long process of time, 
In emulation opposite to Heaven. 



BOOK II. 93 

Which when Beelzebub perceived — than whom, 
Satan except, none higher sat — with grave 300 
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed 
A pillar of state. Deep on his front engraven 
Deliberation sat, and public care ; 

And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Description of 

Majestic, though in ruin. Sage he stood, 305 Beelzebub. 

With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear 
The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look 
Drew audience and attention still as night 
Or summer's noontide air, while thus he spake : — 

1 Thrones and Imperial Powers, Offspring of 
Heaven, 310 

Ethereal Virtues ! or these titles now 
Must we renounce, and, changing style, be called 
Princes of Hell ? for so the popular vote 
Inclines, here to continue, and build up here 
A growing empire ; doubtless ! while we dream, 315 
And know not that the King of Heaven hath 

doomed 
This place our dungeon — not our safe retreat 
Beyond His potent arm, to live exempt 
From Heaven's high jurisdiction, in new league 
Banded against His throne, but to remain 320 

In strictest bondage, though thus far removed, 
Under the inevitable curb reserved 
His captive multitude. For He, be sure, 
In highth or depth, still first and last will reign 
Sole King, and of His kingdom lose no part 325 
By our revolt, but over Hell extend 
His empire, and with iron sceptre rule 
Us here, as with His golden those in Heaven. 



94 



PARADISE LOST. 



Beelzebub 
suggests 
the invasion 
of Man's 
world. 



330 



will be 



335 



What sit we then projecting peace and war? 
War hath determined us, and foiled with loss 
Irreparable ; terms of peace yet none 
Vouchsafed or sought ; for what peace 

given 
To us enslaved, but custody severe, 
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
Inflicted ? and what peace can we return, 
But, to our power, hostility and hate, 
Untamed reluctance, and revenge, though slow, 
Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least 
May reap His conquest, and may least rejoice 
In doing what we most in suffering feel ? 340 

Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need 
With dangerous expedition to invade 
Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault or siege, 
Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find 
Some easier enterprise ? There is a place 345 

(If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven 
Err not) — another World, the happy seat 
Of some new race called Man, about this time 
To be created like to us, though less 
In power and excellence, but favored more 
Of Him who rules above ; so was His will 
Pronounced among the gods, and by an oath, 
That shook Heaven's whole circumference, 

firmed. 
Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn 
What creatures there inhabit, of what mold 
Or substance, how endued, and what their power, 
And where their weakness, how attempted best, 
By force or subtlety. Though Heaven be shut, 



350 



355 



BOOK II. 95 

And Heaven's high Arbitrator sit secure 

In His own strength, this place may lie exposed, 360 

The utmost border of His kingdom, left 

To their defense who hold it. Here perhaps 

Some advantageous act may be achieved 

By sudden onset — either with Hell-fire 

To waste His whole creation, or possess 365 

All as our own, and drive, as we were driven, 

The puny habitants ; or, if not drive, 

Seduce them to our party, that their God 

May prove their Foe, and with repenting hand 

Abolish His own works. This would surpass 370 

Common revenge, and interrupt His joy 

In our confusion, and our joy upraise 

In His disturbance, when His darling sons, 

Hurled headlong to partake with us, shall curse 

Their frail original, and faded bliss — 375 

Faded so soon. Advise if this be worth 

Attempting, or to sit in darkness here 

Hatching vain empires.' 

Thus Beelzebub Beelzebub's 

Pleaded his devilish counsel — first devised plan, devised 

By Satan, and in part proposed ; for whence, 380 by Satan, is 

RpplcHldCQ. 

But from the author of all ill, could spring 

So deep a malice, to confound the race 

Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell 

To mingle and involve, done all to spite 

The great Creator ? But their spite still serves 385 

His glory to augment. The bold design 

Pleased highly those Infernal States, and joy 

Sparkled in all their eyes ; with full assent 

They vote ; whereat his speech he thus renews : — 



96 PARADISE LOST. 

' Well have ye judged, well ended long de- 
bate, 390 
Synod of gods, and, like to what ye are, 
Great things resolved, which from the lowest deep 
Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, 
Nearer our ancient seat — perhaps in view 
Of those bright confines, whence, with neighbor- 
ing arms, 395 
And opportune excursion, we may chance 
Reenter Heaven ; or else in some mild zone 
Dwell, not unvisited of Heaven's fair light, 
Secure, and at the brightening orient beam 
puts question Purge off this gloom ; the soft delicious air, 400 
who shall first To heal the scar of these corrosive fires, 
world Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we 
send 
In search of this new World ? whom shall we find 
Sufficient ? who shall tempt with wandering feet 
The dark, unbottomed, infinite Abyss, 405 ( 
And through the palpable obscure find out 
His uncouth way, or spread his aery flight, 
Upborne with indefatigable wings, 
Over the vast Abrupt, ere he arrive 
The happy Isle ? What strength, what art, can then 
Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe 411 
Through the strict senteries and stations thick 
Of Angels watching round ? Here he had need 
All circumspection, and we now no less 
Choice in our suffrage ; for on whom we send, 415 
The weight of all, and our last hope, relies.' 

This said, he sat ; and expectation held 
His look suspense, awaiting who appeared 



BOOK II. 97 

To second, or oppose, or undertake A11 are silent, 

The perilous attempt — but all sat mute, 420 begin g ^ 

Pondering the danger with deep thoughts ; and each speak. 
In other's countenance read his own dismay, 
Astonished. None among the choice and prime 
Of those Heaven-warring champions could be found 
So hardy as to proffer or accept, 425 

Alone, the dreadful voyage — till at last 
Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised 
Above his fellows, with monarchal pride, 
Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake : — 
' O Progeny of Heaven ! Empyreal Thrones ! 430 
AVith reason hath deep silence and demur 
Seized us, though undismayed. Long is the way 
And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light. 
Our prison strong, this huge convex of fire 
Outrageous to devour, immures us round 435 

Ninefold ; and gates of burning adamant, 
Barred over us, prohibit all egress. 
These passed, if any pass, the void profound 
Of unessential Night receives him next, 
Wide-gaping, and with utter loss of being 440 

Threatens him, plunged in that abortive Gulf. H ... 

If thence he scape, into whatever world upon the 

Or unknown region, what remains him less danger, but 

Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape? brave it alone. 

But I should ill become this throne, O Peers, 445 
And this imperial sovranty, adorned 
With splendor, armed with power, if aught proposed 
And judged of public moment, in the shape 
Of difficulty or danger, could deter 
Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 450 



98 PARADISE LOST. 

These royalties, and not refuse to reign, 
Refusing to accept as great a share 
Of hazard as of honor, due alike 
To him who reigns, and so much to him due 
Of hazard more, as he above the rest 455 

High honored sits ? Go, therefore, mighty Powers, 
Terror of Heaven, though fallen ; intend at home — 
While here shall be our home — what best may ease 
The present misery, and render Hell 
More tolerable, — if there be cure or charm 460 
To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain 
Of this ill mansion ; intermit no watch 
Against a wakeful Foe, while I abroad 
Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek 
Deliverance for us all. This enterprise 465 

None shall partake with me.' 
The assembly Thus saying, rose 

rises, and all Th Monarch and prev ented all reply; 
extol their ' r . . ' 

leader. Prudent lest, from his resolution raised, 

Others among the chief might offer now — 
Certain to be refused — what erst they feared ; 470 
And, so refused, might in opinion stand 
His rivals, winning cheap the high repute 
Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they 
Dreaded not more the adventure than his voice 
Forbidding ; and at once with him they rose. 475 
Their rising all at once was as the sound 
Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend 
With awful reverence prone ; and as a god 
Extol him equal to the Highest in Heaven. 
Nor failed they to express how much they praised 
That for the general safety he despised 481 



concord of 
devils shames 



book ii. y- 

His own ; for neither do the Spirits damned 
Lose all their virtue, — lest bad men should boast 
Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites, 
Or close ambition varnished o'er with zeal. 485 

Thus they their doubtful consultations dark 
Ended, rejoicing in their matchless Chief : 
As when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds 
Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread 
Heaven's cheerful face, the lowering element 490 
Scowls o'er the darkened landscape snow or shower; get after 
If chance the radiant sun, with farewell sweet, storm ; the 
Extend his evening beam, the fields revive, 
The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds the dissen 
Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. 495 sions of men. 

O shame to men ! devil with devil damned 
Firm concord holds ; men only disagree 
Of creatures rational, though under hope 
Of heavenly grace, and, God proclaiming peace, 
Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 500 

Among themselves, and levy cruel wars 
Wasting the earth, each other to destroy ; 
As if — which might induce us to accord — 
Man had not hellish foes enow besides, 
That day and night for his destruction wait ! 505 

The Stygian council thus dissolved, and forth 

In order came the grand Infernal Peers; 

Midst came their mighty Paramount, and seemed 

Alone the antagonist of Heaven, nor less 

Than Hell's dread Emperor, with pomp supreme, 

And godlike imitated state ; him round 511 

A globe of fiery Seraphim enclosed 

° J Proclamation 

With bright emblazonry and horrent arms. f t he result 



100 



PARADISE LOST. 



The diver- 
sions of the 
fallen Angels. 



Then of their session ended they bid cry 
With trumpet's regal sound the great result ; 515 
Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim 
Put to their mouths the sounding alchemy, 
By herald's voice explained ; the hollow Abyss 
Heard far and wide, and all the host of Hell 
With deafening shout returned them loud acclaim. 
Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat 
raised 521 

By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Powers 
Disband, and, wandering, each his several way 
Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
Leads him perplexed, where he may likeliest find 
Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain 526 
The irksome hours till his great Chief return. 
Part on the plain, or in the air sublime, 
Upon the wing or in swift race contend, 
As at the Olympian games or Pythian fields ; 530 
Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 
As when, to warn proud cities, war appears 
Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush 
To battle in the clouds, before each van 535 

Prick forth the aery knights, and couch their spears, 
Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 
From either end of Heaven the welkin burns. 
Others, with vast Typhcean rage, more fell, 
Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 540 
In whirlwind ; Hell scarce holds the wild uproar ; — 
As when Alcides from (Echalia crowned 
With conquest, felt the envenomed robe, and tore, 
Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines, 



BOOK II. 101 

And Lichas from the top of (Eta threw 545 

Into the Euboic sea. 

Others, more mild, 
Retreated in a silent valley, sing 
With notes angelical to many a harp 
Their own heroic deeds, and hapless fall 
By doom of battle ; and complain that Fate 550 
Free virtue should enthral to Force or Chance. 
Their song was partial ; but the harmony 
(What could it less when Spirits immortal sing ?) 
Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment 
The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet 
(For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense) 556 
Others apart sat on a hill retired, 
In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high 
Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate — 
Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute — 560 
And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. 
Of good and evil much they argued then, 
Of happiness and final misery, 
Passion and apathy, and glory and shame — 
Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy ; 565 

Yet, with a pleasing sorcery, could charm 
Pain for awhile or anguish, and excite 
Fallacious hope, or arm the obdured breast 
With stubborn patience as with triple steel. 

Another part, in squadrons and gross bands, 570 
On bold adventure to discover wide 
That dismal world, if any clime perhaps 
Might yield them easier habitation, bend 
Four ways their flying march, along the banks 
Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge 575 



102 PARADISE LOST. 

Into the burning lake their baleful streams — 

Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate ; 

Sad Acheron, of sorrow, black and deep ; 

Cocytus, named of lamentation loud 

Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce Phlegethon, 580 

The explora- wh f torrent fi re inflame with rage, 

tion of the in- ° 

fernal regions. Far off from these, a slow and silent stream, 

Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls 

Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks 

Forthwith his former state and being forgets, 585 

Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. 

Beyond this flood a frozen continent 

Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms 

Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land 

Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 590 

Of ancient pile ; all else deep snow and ice, 

A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog 

Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, 

Where armies whole have sunk ; the parching air 

Burns f rore, and cold performs the effect of fire. 595 

Thither, by harpy-footed Furies haled, 

At certain revolutions all the damned 

Are brought, and feel by turns the bitter change 

Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce : 

From beds of raging fire to starve in ice 600 

Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 

Immovable, infixed, and frozen round, 

Periods of time, — thence hurried back to fire. 

They ferry over this Lethean sound 

Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment, 605 

And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach 

The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose 



BOOK II. 103 

In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, 

All in one moment, and so near the brink ; 

But Fate withstands, and to oppose the attempt 610 

Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards 

The ford, and of itself the water flies 

All taste of living wight, as once it fled 

The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on 

In confused march forlorn, the adventurous bands 

With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast, gig 

Viewed first their lamentable lot, and found 

No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale 

They passed, and many a region dolorous, 

O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, 620 

Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of 

death, — 
A universe of death, which God by curse 
Created evil, for evil only good, 
Where all life dies, death lives, and Nature breeds, 
Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, 625 
Abominable, inutterable, and worse 
Than fables yet have feigned, or fear conceived, 
Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire. 

Meanwhile, the Adversary of God and Man, 629 
Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 
Puts on swift wings, and toward the gates of Hell Satan's flight. 
Explores his solitary flight ; sometimes 
He scours the right-hand coast, sometimes the left ; 
Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
Up to the fiery concave towering high. 635 

As when far off at sea a fleet descried 
Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 



104 PARADISE LOST. 

Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring 
Their spicy drugs ; they on the trading flood, 640 
Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, 
Ply stemming nightly toward the pole ; so seemed 
Far off the flying fiend. At last appear 
Hell-bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
And thrice threefold the gates ; three folds were 
brass, 645 

Three iron, three of adamantine rock, 
Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, 
Yet unconsumed. 

Before the gates there sat 
On either side a formidable Shape. 
The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair, 650 
But ended foul in many a scaly fold 
Voluminous and vast — a serpent armed 
With mortal sting. About her middle round 
A cry of Hell-hounds never-ceasing barked 654 

With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung 
A hideous peal ; yet, when they list, would creep, 
The serpent- Jf ht disturbed their noise, into her womb, 

woman at the ° 

gates. And kennel there ; yet there still barked and howled, 

Within unseen. Far less abhorred than these 

Vexed Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts 660 

Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore ; 

Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when, called 

In secret, riding through the air she conies, 

Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance 

With Lapland witches, while the laboring moon 665 

Eclipses at their charms. 

The other Shape — 



BOOK II. 105 

If shape it might be called that shape had none 

Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb ; 

Or substance might be called that shadow seemed, 

For each seemed either — black it stood as Night, 

Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell, 671 

And shook a dreadful dart ; what seemed his head 

The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 

Satan was now at hand, and from his seat 

The monster moving onward came as fast 675 „ 

° Her com- 

With horrid strides ; Hell trembled as he strode, panion, the 

The undaunted Fiend what this might be ad- shadowy 
. , king, 

mired — 

Admired, not feared (God and his Son except, 

Created thing naught valued he, nor shunned), 

And with disdainful look thus first began : — 680 

- Whence and what art thou, execrable Shape, 

That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 

Th}* miscreated front athwart my way 

To yonder gates ? Through them I mean to pass, 

That be assured, without leave asked of thee ; 685 

Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, 

Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heaven.' 

Satan's de- 
To whom the Goblin, full of wrath, replied : — fiance of the 

« Art thou that Traitor Angel, art thou he 689 phantom. 

Who first broke peace in Heaven and faith, till then 

Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms 

Drew after him the third part of Heaven's Sons 

Conjured against the Highest — for which both thou 

And they, outcast from God, are here condemned 

To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? 695 gC0 rjf f ul 

And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heaven, retort. 

Hell-doomed, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, 



106 PARADISE LOST. 

Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, 
Thy king and lord ? Back to thy punishment, 
False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, too 

Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart 
Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unf elt before ! ' 

So spake the grisly Terror, and in shape, 
So speaking and so threatening, grew tenfold 705 
More dreadful and deform. On the other side, 
Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 
Unterrified, and like a comet burned, 
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge 

They prepare I n the Arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 710 
Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head 
Leveled his deadly aim ; their fatal hands 
No second stroke intend ; and such a frown 
Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds, 
With Heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on 
Over the Caspian, then stand front to front, 716 
Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow 
To join their dark encounter in mid-air. 
So frowned the mighty combatants, that Hell 
Grew darker at their frown ; so matched they stood ; 
For never but once more was either like 721 

To meet so great a foe. 

And now great deeds 
Had been achieved, whereof all Hell had rung, 
Had not the snaky sorceress, that sat 
Fast by Hell-gate and kept the fatal key, 725 

The snaky Risen, and with hideous outcry rushed between. 

1 father, what intends thy hand,' she cried, 
interposes. J 

< Against thy only son ? What fury, O son, 



BOOK II. 107 

Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart 
Against thy father's head ? And know'st for whom ? 
For Him who sits above, and laughs the while 731 
At thee, ordained His drudge, to execute 
Whate'er His wrath, which He calls justice, bids — 
His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both.' 

She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest 735 
Forbore ; then these to her Satan returned : — 
< So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange 
Thou interposest, that my sudden hand, 
Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds 
What it intends, till first I know of thee, 740 t ^ ^ h ^ eS ' 

What thing thou art, thus double-formed, and why, 
In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st 
Me father, and that phantasm call'st my son. 
I know thee not, nor ever saw till now 
Sight more detestable than him and thee.' 745 

To whom thus the Portress of Hell-gate replied : 
1 Hast thou forgot me, then, and do I seem 
Now in thine eye so foul ? — once deemed so fair 
In Heaven, when at the assembly, and in sight 
Of all the Seraphim with thee combined 750 

In bold conspiracy against Heaven's King, 
All on a sudden miserable pain 
Surprised thee, dim thine eyes and dizzy swum 
In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
Threw forth ; till, on the left side opening wide, 755 
Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright, Sin recounts 
Then shining heavenly fair, a goddess armed, W ith Satan 

Out of thy head I sprung. Amazement seized and the origin 
All the host of Heaven ; back they recoiled afraid of Deatu - 
At first, and called me Sin, and for a sign 760 



108 PARADISE LOST. 

Portentous held me ; but, familiar grown, 
I pleased, and with attractive graces won 
The most averse — thee chiefly, who, full oft 
Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing, 
Becam'st enamored ; and such joy thou took'st 765 
With me in secret, that my womb conceived 
A growing burden. Meanwhile war arose, 
And fields were fought in Heaven ; wherein re- 
mained 
(For what could else ? ) to our Almighty Foe 
Clear victory, to our part loss and rout 770 

Through all the Empyrean. Down they fell, 
Driven headlong from the pitch of Heaven, down 
Into this Deep ; and in the general fall 
I also ; at which time this powerful key 
Into my hand was given, with charge to keep 775 
These gates for ever shut, which none can pass 
Without my opening. Pensive here I sat 
Alone ; but long I sat not, till my womb, 
Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown, 
Prodigious motion felt, and rueful throes. 780 

At last this odious offspring whom thou seest, 
Thine own begotten, breaking violent way, 
Tore through my entrails, that, with fear and pain 
Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew 
Transformed ; but he, my inbred enemy, 785 

Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart, 
Made to destroy. I fled, and cried out, < Death ! ' 
Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sighed 
From all her caves, and back resounded, ' Death ! ' 
I fled ; but he pursued (though more, it seems, 790 
Inflamed with lust than rage), and, swifter far, 



BOOK II. 109 

Me overtook, his mother, all dismayed, 

And in embraces forcible and foul 

Engendering with me, of that rape begot 

These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry 795 

Surround me, as thou saw'st — hourly conceived 

And hourly born, with sorrow infinite 

To me ; for, when they list, into the womb 

That bred them they return, and howl, and gnaw 

My bowels, their repast ; then, bursting forth 800 

Afresh, with conscious terrors vex me round, 

That rest or intermission none I find. 

Before mine eyes in opposition sits 

Grim Death, my son and foe, who sets them on, 

And me his parent would full soon devour 805 

For want of other prey, but that he knows 

His end with mine involved, and knows that I 

Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane, 

Whenever that shall be ; so Fate pronounced. 

But thou, O father, I forewarn thee, shun 810 

His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope 

To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 

Though tempered heavenly ; for that mortal dint, 

Save He who reigns above, none can resist.' 

She finished ; and the subtle Fiend his lore 815 
Soon learned, now milder, and thus answered 

smooth : — 
' Dear daughter — since thou claim'st me for thy 

sire, 

And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge 

Of dalliance had with thee in Heaven, and joys * a c ™ p ^" 

' J J suades Sin 

Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire and Death to 
change 820 allow his exit. 



110 PARADISE LOST. 

Befallen us unforeseen, unthought-of — know 
I come no enemy, but to set free 
From out this dark and dismal house of pain 
Both him and thee, and all the heavenly host 
Of Spirits, that, in our just pretences armed, 825 
Fell with us from on high. From them I go 
This uncouth errand sole, and, one for all, 
Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread 
The unfounded Deep, and through the void im- 
mense 
To search, with wandering quest, a place foretold 
Should be — and, by concurring signs, ere now 831 
Created vast and round — a place of bliss 
In the purlieus of Heaven ; and, therein placed, 
A race of upstart creatures, to supply 834 

Perhaps our vacant room, — though more removed, 
Lest Heaven, surcharged with potent multitude, 
Might hap to move new broils. Be this, or aught 
Than this more secret, now designed, I haste 
To know ; and, this-once known, shall soon return 
And bring ye to the place where thou and Death 
Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 841 
Wing silently the buxom air, embalmed 
With odors. There ye shall be fed and filled 
Immeasurably; all things shall be your prey.' 
He ceased, for both seemed highly pleased, and 
Death 845 

Grinned horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 
His famine should be filled, and blessed his maw 
Destined to that good hour. No less rejoiced 
His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire : — 
i The key of this infernal Pit, by due 850 



BOOK II. Ill 

And by command of Heaven's all-powerful King, Sin owns her 

I keep, by Him forbidden to unlock the author of 

These adamantine gates ; against all force her heing. 

Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 

Fearless to be o'ermatched by living might. 855 

But what owe I to His commands above 

Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down 

Into this gloom of Tartarus profound, 

To sit in hateful office here confined, 

Inhabitant of Heaven, and heavenly-born — 860 

Here, in perpetual agony and pain, 

With terrors and with clamors compassed round 

Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed ? 

Thou art my father, thou my author, thou 

My being gav'st me ; whom should I obey 865 

But thee ? whom follow ? Thou wilt bring me soon 

To that new world of light and bliss, among 

The gods who live at ease, where I shall reign 

At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems 

Thy daughter and thy darling, without end.' 870 

Thus saying, from her side the fatal key, ga tes of Hell. 

Sad instrument of all our woe, she took ; 
And, towards the gate rolling her bestial train, 
Forthwith the huge portcullis high updrew, 
Which, but herself, not all the Stygian Powers 875 
Could once have moved ; then in the keyhole turns 
The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 
Of massy iron or solid rock with ease 
Unfastens. On a sudden open fly, 
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound, 880 

The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook 



112 PARADISE LOST. 

Of Erebus. She opened ; but to shut 
Excelled her power. The gates wide open stood, 
That with extended wings a bannered host, 885 
Under spread ensigns marching, might pass 

through, 
With horse and chariots ranked in loose array ; 
So wide they stood, and like a furnace-mouth 
Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame. 
Before their eyes in sudden view appear 890 

The secrets of the hoary Deep — a dark 
Illimitable ocean, without bound, 
Without dimension, where length, breadth, and 

highth, 

And time, and place, are lost ; where eldest Night 

And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold 895 

The ocean of 
Chaos. Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise 

Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. 

For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions 

fierce, 

Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring 

Their embryon atoms ; they around the flag 900 

Of each his faction, in their several clans, 

Light-armed or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow, 

Swarm populous, unnumbered as the sands 

Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil, 

Levied to side with warring winds, and poise 905 

Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere, 

He rules a moment ; Chaos umpire sits, 

And by decision more embroils the fray 

By which he reigns ; next him high arbiter, 

Chance governs all. 

Into this wild Abyss — 910 



BOOK II. 113 

The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave — 

Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, 

But all these in their pregnant causes mixed 

Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, 

Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain 915 The terrors of 

His dark materials to create more worlds, — 

Into this wild Abyss the wary Fiend 

Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while, 

Pondering his voyage ; for no narrow frith 

He had to cross. Nor was his ear less pealed 920 

With noises loud and ruinous — to compare 

Great things with small — than when Bellona 

storms 
With all her battering engines, bent to raze 
Some capital city ; or less than if this frame 
Of Heaven were falling, and these elements 925 
In mutiny had from her axle torn 
The steadfast Earth. 

At last his sail-broad vans 
He spreads for flight, and, in the surging smoke 
Uplifted, spurns the ground ; thence many a league, 
As in a cloudy chair ascending rides 930 

Audacious ; but, that seat soon failing, meets 
A vast vacuity. All unawares, 
Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb down he drops 
Ten thousand fathom deep ; and to this hour 
Down had been falling, had not, by ill chance, 935 some ancl 
The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud, perilous 

Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him journey. 

As many miles aloft. That fury stayed — 
Quenched in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea 
Nor good dry land — nigh foundered on he fares 



114 PARADISE LOST. 

Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, 941 
Half flying ; behoves him now both oar and sail. 
As when a griffin through the wilderness 
With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, 
Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 945 

Had from his wakeful custody purloined 
The guarded gold ; so eagerly the Fiend 
O'er bog or steep, through straight, rough, dense, 

or rare, 
With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, 
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies. 
At length a universal hubbub wild 951 

Of stunning sounds, and voices all confused, 
Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear 
With loudest vehemence. Thither he plies 
Undaunted, to meet there whatever Power 955 

Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss 
Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask 
Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies 
Bordering on light — when straight behold the 

throne 
Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 960 

He arrives at Wide on the wasteful Deep ! With him enthroned 
the throne of g t sable . vested Night eldest of things 
Chaos and ° ° 

Night. The consort of his reign ; and by them stood 

Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name 
Of Demogorgon ; Rumor next, and Chance, 965 
And Tumult, and Confusion, all embroiled, 
And Discord with a thousand various mouths. 
To whom Satan, turning boldly, thus : — 'Ye 
Powers 
And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss, 



BOOK II. 115 

Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy, 970 

With purpose to explore or to disturb 

The secrets of your realm ; but, by constraint 

Wandering this darksome desert, as my way 

Lies through your spacious empire up to light, 

Alone and without guide, half lost, I seek 975 Satan offers 

What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds to brin s the 

Confine with Heaven ; or, if some other place, un der their 

From your dominion won, the Ethereal King dominion. 

Possesses lately, thither to arrive 

I travel this profound. Direct my course ; 980 

Directed, no mean recompense it brings 

To your behoof, if I that region lost, 

All usurpation thence expelled, reduce 

To her original darkness and your sway 

(Which is my present journey), and once more 985 

Erect the standard there of ancient Night. 

Yours be the advantage all, mine the revenge.' 

Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old, 
With faltering speech and visage incomposed, 
Answered : ' I know thee, stranger, who thou art — 
That mighty leading Angel, who of late 991 

Made head against Heaven's King, though over- 
thrown. 
I saw and heard, for such a numerous host 
Fled not in silence through the frighted Deep 
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, 995 

Confusion worse confounded ; and Heaven-gates 
Poured out by millions her victorious bands, 
Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 
Keep residence — if all I can will serve 
That little which is left so to defend, 1000 



116 



PARADISE LOST. 



Chaos directs Encroached on 

his further 

course. 



Satan 

resumes his 
journey. 



till through our intestine broils 
Weak'ning the sceptre of old Night : — first. Hell, 
Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath : 
Now lately. Heaven and Earth, another "World. 
Hung o'er my realm, linked in a golden chain 1005 
To that side Heaven from whence your legions fell. 
If that way be your walk, you have not far ; 
So much the nearer danger. Go, and speed ; 
Havoc, and spoil, and ruin are my gain.' 

He ceased ; and Satan stayed not to reply, 1010 
But. glad that now his sea should find a shore, 
With fresh alacrity, and force renewed. 
Springs upward like a pyramid of fire 
Into the wild expanse, and. through the shock 
Of fighting elements, on all sides round 1015 

Environed, wins his way ; harder beset 
And more endangered than when Argo passed 
Through Bosporus, betwixt the jostling rocks. 
Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunned 
Charybdis. and by the other whirlpool steered. 1020 
So he with difficulty and labor hard 
Moved on, with difficulty and labor he : 
But. he once passed, soon after, when man fell. 
Strange alteration ! Sin and Death amain 
Following his track (such was the will of Heaven), 
Paved after him a broad and beaten way mbg 

Over the dark Abyss, whose boiling gulf 
Tamely endured a bridge of wondrous length. 
From Hell continued, reaching the utmost orb 
Of this frail World : by which the Spirits perverse 
With easy intercourse pass to and fro 1031 

To tempt or punish mortals, except whom 



BOOK II. 117 

God and good Angels guard by special grace. 

But now at last the sacred influence 
Of light appears, and from the walls of Heaven 
Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night 1036 

A glimmering dawn. Here Xature first begins 
Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire, 
As from her outmost works, a broken foe, 
With tumult less, and with less hostile din ; 1040 
That Satan with less toil, and now with ease, 
Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light, He at length 

And, like a weather-beaten vessel, holds pauses, and 

Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn ; tnTn^ 1 *** 8 
Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, 1045 world. 

AVeighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold 
Far off the empyreal Heaven, extended wide 
In circuit, undetermined square or round, 
AVith opal towers and battlements adorned 
Of living sapphire, once his native seat ; 1050 

And, fast by, hanging in a golden chain, 
This pendent World, in bigness as a star 
Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. 
Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, 
Accursed, and in a cursed hour, he hies. 1055 



NOTES. 



BOOK I. 

The Verse. Perhaps the hest illustration of Milton's meaning 
may be found in a comparison of a passage from Paradise Lost with 
Dryden's imitation of it in The Fall of Man. The lines are, P. L. 
1 : 315-325: — 

Princes, Potentates, 

Warriors, the Flower of Heaven — once yours, now lost, 

If such astonishment as this can seize 

Eternal Spirits ! Or have ye chosen this place 

After the toil of battle to repose 

Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 

To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven? 

Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 

To adore the Conqueror, who now beholds 

Cherub and Seraph rolling in the flood 

With scattered arms and ensigns ? 

The passage from Dryden is : — 

Dominions, Powers, ye chiefs of Heaven's bright host 
(Of Heaven, once yours ; but now in battle lost), 
Wake from your slumber ! Are your beds of down ? 
Sleep you so easy there ? Or fear the frown 
Of Him who threw you hence, and joys to see 
Your abject state confess His victory? 

One should especially note whether Dryden has here expressed 
anything 'otherwise, and for the most part worse,' than else he 
would have expressed it ; whether Dryden's rime is ' trivial and 
of no true musical delight ; ' and whether Milton has, in addition to 
' apt numbers,' and ' fit quantity of syllables,' ' the sense variously 
drawn out from one verse into another.' 

Note the caesuras of the successive Miltonic lines, then of those 
by Dryden. 

119 



120 NOTES. 

What sort of readers did Milton expect and desire? See P. L.li 
23-39. 

6. For the beginning cf. Homer, II. 1 : 1-9: 'Sing, goddess, the 
wrath of Achilles, Peleus' son, the ruinous wrath that brought on 
the Achaians woes innumerable, and hurled down into Hades many 
strong souls of heroes, and gave their bodies to be a prey to dogs and 
all winged fowls ; and so the counsel of Zeus wrought out its accom- 
plishment from the day when first strife parted Atreides, king of 
men, and noble Achilles. Who then among the gods set the twain 
at strife and variance? Even the son of Leto and of Zeus; for he,' 
etc. Milton may also have had in mind Tasso's Jerusalem Deliv- 
ered, Book I, stanza 2, which runs thus in Fairfax's translation: — 

O Heavenly Muse, that not with fading bays 
Deckest thy brow by the Heliconian spring, 
But sittest crowned with stars' immortal rays 
In Heaven, where legions of bright angels sing ; 
Inspire life in my wit, my thoughts upraise, 
My verse ennoble. 

Why should the theme be announced at the beginning? Why, 
(a) according to ancient ideas, (b) according to modern ideas, should 
a muse or a goddess be invoked? What, if anything, would be 
gained by abandoning the formula? 

What is here effected by inversion ? 

Where in the Bible is this theme treated? Transcribe the verses 
which relate to it. Is there any distinction between Eden and 
Paradise ? 

2. Mortal. See P. L. 2 : 653, 729, 813. 

4. Who is this ' greater Man ' ? See 1 Cor. 15 : 21, 22, 45, 47. 

4-5. Landor would omit these (and so vv. 14-10), 'as incum- 
brances, and deadeners of the harmony.' Is there any reason why 
they should be retained? 

5. Restore. Why subjunctive? Blissful seat. Ci. P.L.I: 
467; 2 : 347; 3 : 527; Virgil, ^En. 6 : 639, 'secies beatas.' 

6. Secret. What is the meaning of the Latin verb secernere ? 
Ovid has {Met. 11 : 765) ' secretos montes colebat ; ' how should this 
be translated? 

Top. Milton is here speaking of mountains and brooks. What 
reason might he have for introducing them? Cf. note on v. 15. 



BOOK I. 121 

7. Oreb. For Horeb; see Exod. 3:1; Deut. 4 : 10-14. Sinai. 
SeeExod. 19: 16-23. 

8. Chosen seed. Deut. 10 : 15 ; 1 Chron. 16 : 13. 

9. What verb is modified by in the beginning? Prove. 

10. Define Chaos. Cf. P.L.I : 210-242. 

11. Siloa's brook. Isa. 8 : 6. Pronounce Siloa. 

12. Fast by. Define. Oracle of God ; cf . 1 Kings 6 : 16. 

14. Middle. Define. Cf. v. 516. 

14-16. ' Supposing the fact to be true,' says Landor, ' the mention 
of it is unnecessary and unpoetical. Little does it become Milton to 
run in debt with Ariosto for his 

Cose non dette rnai ne in prose o in rima.' 

Cf . note on 4-5. 

15. Aonian. Define. Aonian mount = Parnassus, a high 
mountain in Phocis, with two peaks, sacred to Apollo and the 
Muses, at whose foot was the city of Delphi and the Castalian spring. 
Aonian mount is a figurative expression ; what does it signify ? 

Pursues. A Latinism ; so in Virgil, Georg. 3 : 339-340, ' Quid 
pascua versu prosequar?' 

16. Rhyme. Perhaps not to be confounded with rime. The lat- 
ter is O E. rim, but this etymology was obscured by the Greek l>vd/x6s, 
from which the rh seems to have come. Hence two senses, as well 

. as two forms. See my edition of Sidney's Defense of Poesy, note on 
56 17 . Is it true that this theme had never been attempted before? 

17. For the divine mission of the poet, see Sidney, Defense of 
Poesy, 5 8 -6 26 . 

18. Heart. 1 Cor. 3 : 16. 

19. Thou know'st. So Theocritus, Idyls 22 : 116. 

21. Dove-like. Luke 3 : 22. Brooding. This is the meaning 
of the Hebrew word rendered moved in Gen. 1 : 2. See P. L. 7 : 
235; Hymn on Nativity 68. Abyss. See P. L.2: 910-916. 

22-26. What . . . men. Landor would omit these lines; but 
memorize, for they are famous. 

24. Highth. Milton's spelling, and so better : OE. hiehthu. Ar- 
gument. Theme. 

25. Assert. Defend, champion ; a Latinism. 

26. See note on vv. 214-215. 

27. Cf . II. 2 : 484-487 : ' Tell me now, ye Muses that dwell in the 



122 NOTES. 

mansions of Olympus — seeing that ye are goddesses and are at hand 
and know all things, but we hear only a rumor and know not any- 
thing, who were the captains of the Danaans and their lords.' Cf. 
Ps. 139 : 7, 8. 

28. Cause. So jEn. 1:8: 'O Muse, relate to me the causes, tell 
me in what had her will been thwarted,' etc. 

29. Meaning of grand ? 

34. ' I am sorry that Milton did not always keep separate the 
sublime Satan and " the infernal serpent." ' — Landor. But see Rev. 
12 :9; 20 : 2. 

35. Envy. See P. L. 9 : 466; p. 191, v. 2 ff. Revenge. This 
word occurs ten times more in the first two books. 

36. What is the meaning of the word Eve ? See Gen. 3 : 20. 
What time. This seems to be of Northern origin. It is found in 

the Ormulum (ca. 1200), and in Coverdale's Bible. It has been 
retained in the Bible, as, e.g., Ps. 56 : 3. 

37. Cast out. See note on v. 34. 

38. Cf. p. 192, v. 45. Metrically considered, how does this line 
differ from any which have preceded it ? Landor says: ' It is much 
to be regretted, I think, that he admits this metre into epic poetry. 
It is often very efficient in the dramatic, at least in Shakespeare, but 
hardly ever in Milton. He indulges in it much less fluently in Para- 
dise Lost than in the Paradise Regained.'' 

39. Cf. P. L. 5 : 725 ; 6 : 88 ; 7 : 140. 

40. Isa. 14 : 14. To have equaled; is this grammatically cor- 
rect ? 

43. Cf. p. 193, v. 60. 

•44. Why the inversion ? For the thought cf. p. 193, v. 62 ff. 
44-49. Him . . . arms. Memorize. 

45. See Isa. 14 : 12, 15; Luke 10 : 18; and cf. P. L. 6 : 824-874, 
and note on v. 745. Define ethereal; cf. P. L. 3 : 716 ff . ; 5 : 267. 

47. Bottomless. Inexhaustible ; with a suggestion of ' bottom- 
less pit,' P. L.6 : 866 (from Rev. 20 : 3). 

48. Adamantine chains. From the Prometheus Bound of ^s- 
chylus, v. 6. Meaning ? Cf. P. L. 2 : 646, 853. 

49. Durst. The invariable preterit in Milton; OE. dorste. 
What is the modern preterit ? 

51. Crew. See vv. 477, 688, 751. 

52. Gulf. Define. 



BOOK I. 123 

53. Confounded. May there not be two or three meanings 
blended in this word ? Study it in a good dictionary. 

56. Define baleful ; cf. P. L.2 : 576; Comus 255. 

57. Witnessed. Bore witness to. 

58. Pronounce obdurate. On Satan as the hero of Paradise Lost, 
see Introduction, p. 35. 

59. Define ken. 

60. Waste and wild. Note the alliteration, and cf. P. I. 3 : 424. 

61. Dungeon. So P. L. 2 : 317, 1003. 
61-67. A dungeon ... to all. Memorize. 

62. Great furnace. See Rev. 9 : 2. 

63. Cf. p. 194, v. 96. Darkness visible. The ultimate source of 
this thought may be Job 10 : 22 : ' A land of darkness, as darkness 
itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the 
light is as darkness.' Upon this is based the Chaucerian passage in 
the Parson's Tale : ' The derke light that shal come out of the fyr 
that evere shal brenne shal turne hym al to peyne.' Milton may 
have had Spenser in mind, as frequently (F. Q. I. i. 14) : — 

His glistring armor made 
A little glooming light, much like a shade. 

Cf. also II Pens. 79-80: — 

Where glowing embers through the room 
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom. 

Sallust, Jugurtha 21 : 2, has ' obscuro lumine.' Lucan, too, has 
a striking passage concerning a stormy night, which Milton may have 
noted (5 : 630-631) : — 

Nee fulgura currunt 
Clara, sed obscurum nimbosus dissilit aer. 

' (The lightnings run without flame, and, though the cloud bursts, it 
remains dark '). 

64. Discover. Cf. v. 724. 

66. Hope never comes. What are the famous words of Dante 
{Inf. 3:9)? Was Milton a student of Dante ? Cf. Introduction, 
p. 27. 

68. Urges. A Latinism. Define. 

69. Sulphur. See Rev. 19 : 20; 20 : 10. 

70. Prepared. See Matt. 25 : 41. 



124 NOTES. 

72. Utter darkness. So P. L. 3 : 16 ; 5 : 614 ; and Shakespeare, 
1 Hen. IV. III. iii. 42. See Matt. 8 : 12 ; 22 : 13 ; 25 : 30 ; Jude 6. For 
the equivalence of outer and utter see Ezek. 10 : 5 ; 42 : 1. Portion. 
See Matt. 24 : 51. 

74. ' Not very far for creatures who could have measured all that 
distance, and a much greater, hy a single act of the will.' — Landor. 
Is this a just criticism? How long had it taken them to fall (P. L. 
6 : 871; cf. 8 : 113-114)? Cf. the Genesis of the Pseudo-Csedmon, p. 
193, v. 71. 

In II. 8 : 13-16, Zeus threatens: ' I will take and cast him into 
misty Tartaros, right far away, where is the deepest gulf heneath 
the earth, . . . as far beneath Hades as Heaven is high above the 
earth.' In ^En. 6 : 577-579, the Sibyl speaks: 'Then Tartarus itself 
yawns with sheer descent, and stretches down through the darkness 
twice as far as the eye travels upward to the firmament of heaven.' 

78. Weltering. Define. See Lye. 13. 

81. Beelzebub. See 2 Kings 1:2 ff . ; Matt. 12 : 24. See Mil- 
ton's description of him, P. L. 2 : 299-309. What indications of his 
character are given in P. L. 1 : 128-155, 271-282; 2 : 299-380? In 
what respect, if any, does he appear inferior to Satan ? 

Arch-Enemy. How does this term differ in meaning from the 
Arch-Fiend of P. L. 1 : 156, 209 (cf. Arch-Foe, P. L. 6 : 259) ? 
What is the etymology of fiend ? What the meaning of the word 
Satan? 

With 81 ff. cf. p. 194, v. 108 ff. 

83. Horrid. Why horrid? Has the word occurred before in 
this Book ? 

84. Beest. Is this the usual word ? 

But oh, etc. Note the anacoluthon in this speech. What is 
anacoluthon ? What does this figure suggest on the part of the 
speaker ? 

How fallen! how changed. An allusion to Scripture and to 
Virgil. See Isa. 14 : 12, and jEn. 2 : 274. 

What expressions in this speech are complimentary ? Could 
Satan have any reason for using compliment ? Are there any ex- 
pressions denoting superiority ? Why would not monologue have 
served as well in this place ? 

84-94. Mark the caesural pauses, and note the number of syllables 
which precede the pause in the successive lines. Would uniformity 



BOOK I. 125 

iu this respect be preferable ? Compare, in this respect, vv. 59-69. 
See, on the subject of Milton's rhythm, Introduction, pp. 30-31, 36-37. 

86. Cf. p. 193, v. 54. 

86-87. Didst . . . bright. Cf . Odys. 6 : 107-8 : ' High over all 
she [Artemis] rears her head and brows, and easily may she be 
known, — but all are fair ! ' 

93. Thunder. A consultation of the following passages ought to 
be interesting : P. L. 1 : 174, 258, 601 ; 2 : 66, 166, 294. From a com- 
parison of these with Shakespeare, King Lear II. iv. 230; Troil. II. 
iii. 11 ; Cymb. IV. ii. 271; V. iv. 30, 95, should you judge this to be 
a Christian or a pagan conception ? See note on v. 199. 

94. Dire. Define. See P. L. 2 : 589. 

Yet not for those, etc. Cf . Prometheus Bound 1013-1016 : — 

Let him now hurl his blanching lightnings down, 
And with his white-winged snows, and mutterings deep 
Of subterraneous thunders, mix all things, 
Confound them in disorder ! None of this 
Shall bend my sturdy will. 

97. Changed. Modifies what word ? 

98. Lowell says {Shakespeare Once More) : ' Milton is saved from 
making total shipwreck of his large-utteranced genius on the desolate 
Noman's Land of a religious epic only by the lucky help of Satan 
and his colleagues, with whom, as foiled rebels and republicans, he 
cannot conceal his sympathy.' 

101. Innumerable'foree. Define. 

105-106. What though . . . not lost. Cf. Fairfax's Tasso 4 : 15:— 

We lost the field, yet lost we not our heart. 

105-109. What though . . . overcome. Memorize. 

107. Study. What is the primary meaning of the Latin studium ? 

108-109. Note the following by Matthew Arnold, The Study of 
Poetry : — 

' There can be no more useful help for discovering what poetry belongs to 
the class of tbe truly excellent, and can therefore do us most good, than to 
have always in one's mind lines and expressions of the great masters, and 
to apply them as a touchstone to other poetry. Of course we are not to 
require this other poetry to resemble tbem ; it maybe very dissimilar. But 
if we have any tact we shall find them, when we have lodged them well in 
our minds, an infallible touchstone for detecting the presence or absence of 



126 NOTES. 



high poetic quality, and also the degree of this quality, in all other poetry 
which we may place beside them. Short passages, even single lines, Avill 
serve our turn quite sufficiently.' 

The author then quotes Homer, II. 3 : 243, 244 ; 17 : 443-445 : 24 : 
543 ; Dante, Inf. 33 : 49-50 ; 2 : 91-93 ; Par. 3 : 85 ; Shakespeare, 
2 Henry IF. III. i. 20-22; Hamlet V. ii. 354-357, and adds: - 

' Take of Milton that Miltonic passage : — 

Darkened so, yet shone 
Above them all the Archangel ; but his face 
Deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and care 
Sat on his faded cheek . . . 

P. L. 1 : 599-602. 
add two such lines as : — 

And courage never to submit or yield; 
And what is else not to be overcome . . . 

P. L.l: 108-109. 

and finish with the exquisite close to the loss of Proserpine, the loss — 

. . . which cost Ceres all that pain 
To seek her through the world. 

P. L.A: 270-271. 

These few lines, if we have tact and can use them, are enough even of 
themselves to keep clear and sound our judgments about poetry, to save us 
from fallacious estimates of it, to conduct us to a real estimate.' 

111. To bow, etc. Cf. Prometheus Bound 1023-1027 : — 

Oh ! think jio more 
That I, fear-struck by Zeus to a woman's mind, 
Will supplicate him, loathed as he is, 
With feminine upliftings of my hands, 
To break these chains ! Far from me be the thought ! 

114. Empire. Define. Cf. Lat. imperium. 

115. Scan the line. 

116. By fate. Is this a Biblical conception ? Why put into the 
mouth of Satan ? Gods. See P. L.l: 138, 570; 2 : 391. 

117. Empyreal substance. Cf . heavenly essences, v. 138 ; fiery 
essence, Hymn on the Circumcision 7. Cf. P. L. 6 : 433-435: — 

Since now we find this our empyreal form 
Incapable of mortal injury, 
Imperishable. 



BOOK I. 127 

For the Scriptural warrant of this view, see Ps. 104 : 4. What is the 
etymology of empyreal ? 

123. Scan the line. 

124. What is the usual Greek meaning of tyrant, and tyranny ? 
126. Cf. .En. 1:208-209: 'Such were his words; sick at heart 

with a weight of care, hope in his looks he feigns, deep in his soul 
his grief he stifles.' 

129. That. What is its antecedent ? Define embattled. 

Seraphim. The modern conceptions of the Seraphim and Cheru- 
bim are not directly derived from the Bible, hut owe much to the 
treatise on the Celestial Hierarchies by the Pseudo-Dionysius the 
Areopagite, of the fourth century, from which modern poets have 
freely drawn. Thomas Aquinas, in his Summa Theologica, thus 
treats the subject (Qusest. 108): — 

4 The name of Seraphim is not given from love alone, but from excess of 
love, which the name of heat or burning implies. Hence Dionysius inter- 
prets the name Seraphim according to the properties of fire, in which is 
excess of heat. In fire, however, we may consider three things. First, a 
certain motion which is upward, and which is continuous ; by which is sig- 
nified, that they are unchangingly moving towards God. Secondly, its active 
power, which is heat ; . . . and by this is signified the influence of this kind 
of Angels, which they exercise powerfully on those beneath them, exciting 
them to a sublime fervor, and thoroughly purifying them by burning. 
Thirdly, in fire its brightness must be considered ; and this signifies that 
such angels have within themselves an inextinguishable light, and that they 
perfectly illuminate others. 

In the same way the name of Cherubim is given from a certain excess of 
knowledge ; hence it is interpreted plenitudo scientise, which Dionysius ex- 
plains in four ways : first, as perfect vision of God ; secondly, full reception 
of divine light ; thirdly, that in God himself they contemplate the beauty of 
the order of things emanating from God ; fourthly, that, being themselves 
full of this kind of knowledge, they copiously pour it out upon others.' 

So Bacon, in his Advancement of Learning, Bk. I: — 
1 To proceed to that which is next in order from God to spirits, we find, as 
far as credit is to be given to the celestial hierarchy of that supposed Dio- 
nysius the senator of Athens, the first place or degree is given to the angels 
of love, which are termed seraphim, the second to the angels of light, which 
are termed cherubim.' 

To these add Byron, Cain I. i. 418 : — 

I have heard it said, 
The seraphs love most — cherubim know most. 



128 NOTES. 

130. Conduct. A sense now somewhat rare. See P. L. 6 : 777; 
9 : (530; so Shak., King John TV. ii. 129: ' Under whose conduct came 
those powers of France ? ' Is the meaning merely guidance ? 

134. Rue. Define. 

135. Foul. Define. See v. 555. 
137. Laid. Construction? 

139. Remains. Account for the singular. 

141. What word is to he understood hefore extinct and swal- 
lowed ? 

144. Of force. Cf. Shak., 1 Hen. IV. II. iii. 120, where Hotspur's 
wife replies to his question, ' Will this content you, Kate ? ' in the 
words, 'It must of force.' Meaning? 

145. Than such. Meaning of such ? Is the repetition of force, 
in a different sense, felicitous ? 

147. Strongly. Meaning? 

148. Suffice. Satisfy. The Latin sufficere would here require a 
dative. Ire. Etymology ? Synonyms ? AYould it be better to 
avoid the rime it causes ? 

149. Thralls. One of the very few old English words borrowed 
from Scandinavian; see Emerson, History of the English Language, 
p. 155. 

150. By right of war. Modifies what word ? His business. 
Meaning of his? Cf. Luke 2 : 49: 'Wist ye not that I must be 
about my Father's business? ' 

154. Being. Cf. P. L. 2 : 98. 

156. Speedy words. Like the Homeric 'winged words,' as, for 
example, in Odys. 1 : 122, and often. 

157. To be . . . suffering. Memorize this apothegm. To what is 
it a reply ? Why Cherub, instead of Seraph? See note on v. 129. 

158. Doing or suffering. Milton has in mind the antithesis em- 
ployed by iEschylus and Sophocles, as in ^Eschylus, Eum. 868 ; Soph. 
0. C. 267 ; consult the Greek Lexicon s. v. <5pdw, and see also P. L. 2 : 
162, 199, 340. The Latin thus uses facere et pati, Liv. 2 : 12; Hor., 
Od. III. xxiv. 43. 

166. Which. What is its antecedent ? 

167. Fail. Err. A Latinism, nisi (m) fallor ; so sEn. 5 : 49. 
170. Is there a contradiction between this and P. L. 6 : 800-823, 

880 ? If so, how is it to be solved ? May ministers here refer to 
hail, v. 171, and thunder, v. 174 ? Cf. P. L. 6 : 836. 



BOOK I. 129 

172. O'erblown. The meaning may be illustrated by Sluik., 
Temp. II. ii. 114: 'Is the storm overblown ?' The sense appears to 
be, ' The cessation of the hail hath calmed, stilled, the fiery surge.' 
If this is the meaning, it is an example of a past participle being used, 
as in Latin, for a verbal noun with a dependent genitive, — in this 
case the genitive being hail. But the syntax is not perfectly clear. 

173. Surge. Image taken from what? Cf. P. L. 7 : 214; 10: 
417. What Latin verb underlies the word ? 

176. Spent. Define. See P. E. 4 : 366, 443; Sams. Agon. 1758. 
Shafts. Cf . P. R. 3 : 305 : ' They issue forth, steel bows and shafts 
their arms,' referring to the Parthians. Here shafts evidently = ar- 
rows. Shaft may therefore be regarded as equivalent to bolt, which 
originally meant the same thing. The missiles or projectiles of 
the thunder are compared to arrows, as in Tennyson's sonnet, 
To J. M. K. : — 

Thou from a throne 
Mounted in heaven wilt shoot into the dark 
Arroivs of lightnings. 

See also P. L. 6 : 546, 845. 
182. Livid. What color, and from what cause ? See vv. 69, 350. 

185. There rest. Ellipsis of what ? 

185-190. Landor and Lowell observe that Milton here uses rime, 
Lowell thinks intentionally. What are the riming words ? 

186. Afflicted. A Latinism. Define. See P. L. 2 : 166; 4 : 939; 
6 : 849-852. 

187. Offend. Is this equivalent to displease ? See P. L. 6 : 465. 

193. Uplift. Why is the form different from that in P. L. 1 : 347 ; 
2:7? 

194. Sparkling blazed. So Spenser, F. Q. I. xi. 14: — 

His blazing eyes, like two bright shining shields, 
Did burne with wrath, and sparkled living fyre. 

May Milton have derived any suggestions for this picture from 
Virgil's account of the serpents that destroy Laocoon and his sons, 
s£n. 2 : 203-210? 

195. Prone. Define. Large. Apparently a Gallicism. Meaning? 

196. Rood. How much space is covered by Tityus, JEn. 6 : 595- 
597 ? How much in Odys. 11 : 577 ? 

198. Titanian. Who were the Titans, and for what were they 



130 NOTES. 

famous ? Earth-born. See P. L. 4 : 360 ; Fac. Exercise 93. It is 
the Greek ynyivfc, an epithet used in the Prometheus Bound (see 
note on next line). 

199. Briareos. Virgil makes Briareus war on Jove, sEn. 10 : 565- 
568 : ' ^Ega3on [another name for Briareus] was such as this, of whom 
they tell that he had a hundred arms and a hundred hands, fifty 
mouths and fifty chests, from which flames blazed, in the day when 
he fought against the thunderbolts of Jove.' But in II. 1 : 401^06 
he is an ally of Zeus. 

Typhon. Prom. Bound 351-372 : — 

I have also seen, 
And pitied as I saw, the earth-horn one, 
The inhabitant of old Cilician caves, 
The great war-monster of the hundred heads 
(All taken and bowed beneath the violent band), 
Typhon tbe fierce, who did resist the gods, 
And, bissing slaughter from bis dreadful jaws, 
Flash out ferocious glory from bis eyes, 
As if to storm tbe tbrone of Zeus ! Wbereat, 
Tbe sleepless arrow of Zeus flew straight at him, — 
Tbe headlong bolt of thunder breathing flame, 
And struck him doAvnward from his eminence 
Of exultation ! Through tbe very soul 
It struck him, and his strength was withered up 
To ashes, thunder-blasted. Now be lies 
A helpless trunk supinely, at full length 
Beside the strait of ocean, spurred into 
By roots of Etna, — high upon whose tops 
Hephaestus sits and strikes the flashing ore. 
From thence the rivers of fire shall burst away 
Hereafter, and devour with savage jaws 
The equal plains of fruitful Sicily ! 
Such passion he shall boil back in hot darts 
Of an insatiate fury and sough of flame, 
Fallen Typhon ;— howsoever struck and charred 
By Zeus's bolted thunder ! 

Cf. Pindar, Pyth. 1 : 16-17: ' Typhon of the hundred heads, whom 
erst the den Kilikian of many names did breed.' 

200. In what province was Tarsus? 

201. Leviathan. Cf. P.L.I : 412-^15. Perhaps referring to Ps. 



BOOK L 131 

104 : 26. The leviathan of Job 41 is generally understood to be a 
crocodile, and not a whale. 

202. Ocean stream. The ocean is called a stream by Homer 
(II. 14 : 245). 

202. Lowell, Milton: 'When Mr. Masson tells us that . . . "either 
the third foot must be read as an anapsest or the word hugest must 
be pronounced as one syllable, hug'st," I think Milton would have 
invoked the soul of Sir John Cheek. Of course Milton read it — 

Created hugest tliat swim th' ocean stream. 

So Milton wrote it, in fact, or at least so the first edition had it.' 

203 ff. The story is an old one. It is told in the fabulous medi- 
aeval zoologies (Physiologi), in the Old English poem entitled The 
Whale, in the Arabian Mights, and in Olaus Magnus' (1490-1568) His- 
tory of the Northern Nations (tr. into English in 1(558). See also 
Ariosto, Orl. Fur. 6 : 37, Hakluyt's Voyages, and my comparison of 
the different versions in Modern Language Notes for March, 1894. 

204. Night-foundered. Does this mean benighted, lost in the 
darkness, as in Comus 483? Nothing better suggests itself, but this 
meaning of founder seems to be peculiar to Milton. 

206. Scaly. Perhaps from Job 41, but some of the writers men- 
tioned above use terms which likewise suggest the crocodile or a 
huge turtle. Milton did not invent the confusion. 

207. Lee. Define. 

208. Invests. See P. L. 3 : 10. Wished morn. See Comus 574, 
950; P. L. 6 : 150. 

209. Garnett calls attention to the ' sequence of monosyllables 
that paints the enormous bulk of the prostrate Satan.' 

210. Chained. See 2 Pet. 2:4; Jude 6 ; Rev. 20 : 1. 2 Pet. 2 : 4 
is now translated ' pits of darkness ; ' the former reading is explained 
as ' to darkness as if to chains,' which would make the Miltonic con- 
text easier of explanation (but see v. 48). 

211. Had. Parse. 

214-215. Garnett, Milton, pp. 153, 154 : — 

'It is easy to represent Paradise Lost as obsolete by pointing out 
that its demonology and angelology have for us become mere mythology. 
This criticism is more formidable in appearance than in reality. The vital 
question for the poet is his own belief, not the belief of his readers. If the 
Iliad has survived not merely the decay of faith in the Olympian divinities, 



132 NOTES. 



but the criticism which has pulverized Achilles as a historical personage, 
Paradise Lost need not he much affected by general disbelief in the per- 
sonality of Satan, and universal disbelief in that of Gabriel, Raphael, and 
Uriel. A far more vulnerable point is the failure of the purpose so osten- 
tatiously proclaimed, " To justify the ways of God to men." This problem 
was absolutely insoluble on Milton's data, except by denying the divine 
foreknowledge, a course not open to him. The conduct of the Deity who 
allows his adversary to ruin his innocent creature from the purely malig- 
nant motive — 

That with reiterated crimes he might 

Heap on himself damnation, 

without further interposition than a warning which he foresees will be 
fruitless, implies a grievous deficiency either in wisdom or in goodness, or 
at best falsifies the declaration : — 

Necessity and chance 
Approach me not, and what I will is fate.' 

220. Treble. Name two synonyms. This use of treble in the 
sense of ' very great ' suggests the use of Greek rplg, English thrice, 
in such words as ' thrice-blessed.' Cf. P. L. 2 : 569; 7 : 631. Poured. 
Parse. 

221. Pool. Is the word here used in its ordinary sense? Cf. 
P. L. 1 : 411 ; 9 : 77 ; P. P. 4 : 79. If Milton sometimes used it to 
translate the Lat. palus, how might that modify the customary 
sense ? The Bible sometimes has it with nearly the Miltonic mean- 
ing, thus Isa. 14 : 23 ; cf . 41 : 18. 

222-224. Describe this scene as it appears to the eye of your im- 
agination. 

224. Cf. p. 193, v. 69. 

225. Expanded wings. Cf. P. L. 2 : 927. 

226. Incumbent. So the winds are incumbent on the sea in J£n. 
1 : 84. Dusky air. Cf . P. L. 3 : 72 ; 10 : 280. 

227. Unusual weight. Spenser, F. Q. I. xi. 18 : — 

And with strong flight did forcibly divide 
The yielding aire, which nigh too feeble found 
Her flitting parts and element unsound, 
To beare so great a weight. 

228. Lights. Milton uses alight only twice, P. L. 3 : 422 ; 4 : 396. 

229. Liquid fire. So liquidis ignis in Virgil, Eel. 6 : 33, from 
Lucr. 6 : 205, 349. 



BOOK I. 133 

230. Hue. What color would this he ? 

231. Transports. Carries away. 

232. Pelorus. Cape Faro in Sicily, opposite the Italian main- 
land, and near ./Etna. Ovid, Met. 5 : 346-355 : ' The vast island of 
Trinacria is heaped up on the limhs of the Giant, and keeps down 
Typhoeus, that dared to hope for the abodes of Heaven, placed be- 
neath its heavy mass. He indeed struggles, and attempts often to 
rise, but his right hand is placed beneath the Ausonian Pelorus, his 
left under thee, Pachynus; his legs are pressed down by Lilyboeum ; 
JEtna bears down his head ; under it Typhoeus, on his back, casts 
forth sand, and vomits flame from his raging mouth; often does he 
struggle to throw off the load of earth, and to roll away cities and 
huge mountains from his body.' Cf. /En. 3 : 571-582 (whence ' thun- 
dering ^Etna '), and Longfellow's poem of Enceladus. Parse side. 

234. Fueled. Define. Entrails. See P. L. 0:517; 9:1000; 
and cf. viscera, jEn. 3 : 575. Conceiving. A Latinism, concipere 
ignem, as in Ovid, Met. 7 : 108. 

235. Sublimed. See P. L. 5 : 483. Define and parse. Mineral 
fury. Like the furor sequinoctialis of Catullus 46 : 2. 

236. Involved. See P. R. 1 : 41. 

238. Unblest feet. Do you know Ruskin's comment on this pas- 
sage, Mod. Painters, Part 3, Sec. 2, Chap. 3? Next mate. See v. 192. 

241. Not. So Aias [Ajax] in Odys. 4 : 502-504: 'And so would he 
have fled his doom, albeit hated by Athene, had he not let a proud 
word fall in the fatal darkening of his heart. He said that in the 
gods' despite he had escaped the great gulf of the sea.' 

243. See note on v. 5. 

244. Change. Take in exchange. A classic idiom. Thus mutare, 
permutare in Virg., Georg. 1:8; Hor., Od. I. xvii. 1; III. i. 47; 
dUaaaav, tLfiti^dv are similarly used in Greek. Cf. Ben Jonson, Drink 
to me only with thine eyes : — 

But might I of Jove's nectar sup, 
v I would not change for thine. 

246. Sovran. From the Ital. sovrano. Account for the usual 
spelling. Dispose. See P. L. 3 : 115 ; 4 : 635 ; S. A. 210, 506. 

247. Shall. Is this a mere future, equivalent to will ? 

248. Equaled. What words to be supplied ? 
249-255. Farewell . . . Heaven. Memorize. 



134 NOTES. 

251. So the hero of Sophocles' Ajax, vv. 395-397. 

254. See Comus 381-385 ; P. L. 4 : 20-23, 75 ; Hor., Ep. I. xi. 27 
(a sentiment which Milton once applied to himself, and wrote in an 
album) ; Lovelace, To Altheafrom Prison; and cf. Marlowe's Faus- 
tus, Scene 3: — 

Faust. How comes it then that thou art out of hell ? 

Mepli. Why this is hell, nor am I out of it ; 
Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God, 
And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven, 
Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, 
In heing deprived of everlasting bliss ? 

257. But. Perhaps = except that I am. If not, we should expect 
equal to Him instead of less than He. 

258. Thunder. Cf. vv. 93, 174. 

259. Built. But there was as yet no building; see vv. 710-717. 

260. For His envy. An obscure phrase ; the general sense is no 
doubt expressed by the critic Newton : ' This is not a place that God 
should envy us, or think it too good for us.' 

262-263. Memorize. There are several parallels. Plutarch tells 
us that Caesar, passing a small town with some friends, remarked, 
'I had rather be the first man here than the second man in Rome.' 
But Milton seems to have followed very closely the lines in the 
Adamus Exul (1610) of Grotius : — 

Nam, me judice, 
Kegnare dignum est ambitu, etsi in Tartaro ; 
Alto prseesse Tartaro siquidem jurat, 
Coelis quam in ipsis servi ohire munia. 

Cf . Prom. Bound 966-967. 

266. Astonished. Either ' bewildered ' or ' dismayed ; ' perhaps 
literally ' thunderstruck,' like Lat. attonitus. See P. L. 1 : 317; 2 : 
423; 6 : 838. Oblivious. Causing forgetfulness, as in Macb. V. iii. 
43, ' oblivious antidote.' Cf. ' unexpressive ' for ' inexpressible,' Lye. 
176 ; and Abbott's Shale. Gram. § 3. 

268. Mansion. Not 'building,' but 'dwelling-place ;' so P. L. 
8 : 296. 

269. Rallied. Define. 

274-277. Lowell notes a rime here, and also an assonance. 

276. Edge. See P. Z. : 108; P. R. 1 : 94; prob. from Lat. acies, 



BOOK I. 135 

the front of an army, conceived of as the edge of a sword. Murray, 
New Eng. Diet., assigns to it a different sense. 

New. Almost = anew ? 

280. Groveling and prostrate. See prone, v. 195. 

282. Such a pernicious highth. An accusative of extent of 
time, like 'spaces incomprehensible,' P. L. 8:20; 'many a dark 
league,' P. L. 10 : 438. Pernicious. Ruinous, fatal; see P. L. (i : 
840. 

284-285. It has been said of Milton's epithets that they are ' pre- 
eminent for perfect music, beauty, and grandeur.' Do these lines 
furnish any illustration of the statement? 

284-291. Gamett says (Milton pp. 104, 165) : — 

' His diction, the delight of the educated, is the despair of the ignorant 
man. Not that this diction is in any respect affected or pedantic. Milton 
was the darling poet of our greatest modern master of unadorned Saxon 
speech, John Bright. But it is freighted with classic allusion — not alone 
from the ancient classics — and comes to lis rich with gathered sweets, like 
a wind laden with the scent of many flowers. " It is," says Pattison, " the 
elaborated outcome of all the best words of all antecedent poetry — the 
language of one who lives in the companionship of the great and the wise of 
past time." " Words," the same writer reminds us, " over and above their 
dictionary signification, connote all the feeling which has gathered round 
them by reason of their employment through a hundred generations of 
song." So it is, every word seems instinct with its own peculiar beauty, and 
fraught with its own peculiar association, and yet each detail is strictly 
subordinate to the general effect. No poet of Milton's rank, probably, has 
been equally indebted to his predecessors, not only for his vocabulary, but 
for his thoughts. Reminiscences throng upon him, and he takes all that 
comes, knowing that he can make it lawfully his own. The comparison of 
Satan's shield to the moon, for instance, is borrowed from the similar com- 
parison of the shield of Achilles in the Iliad, but what goes in Homer comes 
out Milton. Homer merely says that the huge and massy shield emitted 
a lustre like that of the moon in heaven. Milton heightens the resemblance 
by giving the shield shape, calls in the telescope to endow it with what 
would seem preternatural dimensions to the naked eye, and enlarges even 
these by the suggestion of more than the telescope can disclose.' 

Cf. Introduction, pp. 27, 28. 

285. Ethereal temper. This looks like a sort of accusative of 
characteristic, though perhaps we may conceive of the preposition's 
being omitted, as in Abbott, Shak. Gram. §202. Massy. Milton 



136 NOTES. 

does not use ' massive;' massy usually of metals, as in P. L. 1 : 703; 
2 : 878. 

286. Cast. Parse. Circumference. By what figure of speech ? 

287. Like the moon. So II. 19 : 373-374: ' Then lastly he [Ach- 
illes] took the great and strong shield, and its brightness shone afar 
off as the moon's.' 

288. Tuscan artist. His name in P. L. 5 : 202 ; cf . 3 : 590. In his 
Areopagitica Milton says : ' There I found and visited the famous 
Galileo, grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition.' 

289. Fesole. A town on the crest of a hill, 3 miles N. E. of 
Florence. 

290. Valdarno. Valley of the Arno. 

292. To equal. In comparison with. Pine. Hints for this, and 
the mast of the next line, may he found in Odys. 9 : 322 ; JEn. 3 : 
659; Ovid, Met. 13 : 782; Tasso, Jer. Del. 6 : 40; Spenser, F. Q. III. 
vii. 40, etc. Cowley (flourished when ?) says of Goliath : - 

His spear the trunk was of a lofty tree, 

Which Nature meant some tall ship's mast should be. 

292-296. His spear . . . marl. Memorize. 

294. Ammiral. Flag-ship, admiral's ship. From Ital. ammi- 
raglia. 

296. Marl. Cf. v. 562. Steps. Cf. P. L. 6 : 71-73. 

297. Clime. Is it easy to determine just what the word here 
means ? 

298. Sore. OE. scwe, grievously; cf. Ger. seh?\ Vaulted with 
fire. See P. L. 6 : 214 ; P. R. 1 : 116. 

299. Nathless, OE. net thy lees ; older word for nevertheless. 

302. Leaves. The simile is a very old one, and was used by 
several poets before Milton. Can you mention any ? Merrill, on 
Catullus 7 : 3, remarks: 'The sands of the seashore, the leaves of 
the forest, and the stars of the heavens, are the first types of infinite 
number that occurred to early man.' Cf. Gen. 22 : 17; P. L. 2 : 903; 
5 ; 745. 

302-304. Thick . . . embower. Memorize. 

303. Vallombrosa. Ital. Yalle ombrosa, shady valley. It is 
about eighteen miles from Florence, and nearly 3000 feet above the 
sea. The monastery was founded about 1050, and suppressed in 1869 ; 
the present buildings were quite new when Milton visited the spot in 



BOOK I. 137 

Sept., 1638. The poet Wordsworth says: 'The trees planted near 
the convent are mostly pines, but the natural woods are deciduous, 
and spread to a great extent.' 

304. Sedge. The Hebrew name of the Red Sea is Reed Sea, or 
Sea of Rushes. Our term is derived from the Greek and Latin. 

305. Fierce winds. Orion's rising and setting are accompanied 
by storms, according to the ancients ; see /En. 1 : 535-537 ; 7 : 719 ; 
Hor., Od. I. xxviii. 21; III. xxvii. 17; Epod. 15:7. Orion. See 
Longfellow, Occultation of Orion. 

306. Waves o'erthrew. See Exod. 14 : 23-28. 

307. Busiris. The name of an Egyptian king, according to Greek 
legend. Pharaoh being an official title, Milton^ following Raleigh, 
here appropriates an individual name for his poetical purpose. 31 em- 
phian. Memphis was the ancient capital of Egypt, the Noph and 
Memphis of the Bible. The Sphinx and the great pyramids are near 
Memphis. Chivalry. There were horsemen in Pharaoh's host 
(Exod. 14 : 28), but Milton extends the word chivalry to cover the 
whole army, and thus gives a mediaeval tone to the passage. 

309. Sojourners. See Exod. 12 : 40. Goshen. See Gen. 45 : 
10 ; 47 : 27; Exod. 9 : 26. 

310. Safe. Transferred epithet. 

311. Chariot-wheels. Exod. 14 : 25. So thick. How thick ? 
Is the reference to remote or near objects ? 

314. Cf. note on P. L.I: 406. 

314-315. See Lowell's comment, Introduction, p. 32. 

315. Resounded. Cf. P. L. 6 : 218. 

316. Flower. So Lat. flos, Gr. avOo S . 

317. If. That is, ' Heaven is now lost, if,' etc. 
318 ff. Sarcasm. 

320. Virtue. Cf. P. L. 11 : 690. What is the meaning of Lat. 

See v. 170. 
See P. L. 6 : 589. Thunderbolts. See P. L. 6 : 

Perhaps a reminiscence of /En. 1 : 44, transfixo 



Not strictly logical, but imitated from Homer 
and Virgil, as in II 2 : 147; /En. 1 : 148. 



virtus? 




326. 


Pursuers. 


328. 


Linked. { 


836. 




329. 


Transfix. 


pectore. 
330. 


Memorize. 


332. 


As when. 



138 NOTES. 

335. Not. Fail to. 

336. Landor criticises In which they were as prosaic. 

337. To. Milton, save here, always employs the direct object 
with obey ; so Shakespeare, with but two exceptions ; the Bible has 
to in one place, Rom. 6 : 16. This construction is like that with 
Lat. obozdire. General's. As frequently in Shakespeare ; not else- 
where in Milton. 

338. Potent rod. See Exod. 4 : 2, 17 ; 8:5, etc. 

339. Amram's son. Exod. 6 : 20. 

340. Coast. See Exod. 10 : 4. Does it mean ' sea-shore ' ? 
340-343. Exod. 10 : 12-15 ; cf . Rev. 9 : 3-10. 

341. Warping. Define. 

345. Cope. See P. L. 4 : 992 ; 6 : 215. ' Cope of heaven ' is used 
as early as by Chaucer and Wyclif. What is the figure ? 

347. Uplifted spear. Cf. Josh. 8 : 18, 19, 26. 

348. Sultan. What other titles does Milton employ for Satan ? 
351. A multitude. What triple comparison is introduced by 

thick, v. 302 ? What one gives the measure of numberless, v. 344 ? 
In what three different situations and postures were the evil spirits? 
Populous North. Scandinavia was anciently known as 'officina 
gentium.' 

353. Rhene. Rhine; from Lat. Rhenus. Danaw. Danube; 
from Lat. Danuvius, through the German Danau, Donau. When. 
When did this migration of the peoples (Ger. Volkerwanderung) take 
place? Who were the Goths, the Vandals, and the Lombards? 
Who were their chief leaders, and what countries did they overrun ? 

354. Deluge. Cf. Isa. 59 : 19; Spenser, F. Q. II. x. 15. 

355. Libyan sands. Catullus 7 : 3, Libyssse harense. 

357. Heads and leaders. Have there been any previous in- 
stances of synonymous terms used in couples ? Can you suggest any 
reason for it ? 

359. Dignities. The abstract for the concrete ; so 2 Pet. 2 : 10 ; 
Jude 8; cf. Lat. dignitates, Liv. XXII. xl. 4. 

360. Thrones. See v. 128. 

361-363. Ps. 9 : 5, 6 ; 69 : 28 ; Rev. 3:5; P. L. 5 : 658-659. 

365. Got them. Reflexive. 

366. Sufferance. See v. 241. 
369-371. Ps. 106 : 20 ; Rom. 1 : 23. 

372. Religions. Ceremonies, rites, like Lat. religiones. 



BOOK I. 139 

373. Devils. Deut. 32 : 17; Ps. 106 : 37 ; 1 Cor. 10 : 20; Rev. 
9 : 20. To adore. Dependent on what verb ? 

375. Idols. In its etymological or primitive sense. 

376. Say, Muse. So Homer, II. -2: 484, 487 : ' Tell me now, ye 
Muses . . . who were the captains of the Danaans and their lords.' 
Cf. Mn. 7 : 641. 

Who first, who last. II. 5 : 703: 'And now who first was 
slaughtered, and who last.' So 16 : 692, and /En. 11 : 664. 

378. Wherein did the Emperor, in Milton's time, differ from a 
king, as of France or England ? 

381. Pit. See v. 91. 

382. Roaming-. 1 Pet. 5 : 8. 

384. Their altars. 2 Kings 21 : 3-7. 

387. Between the Cherubim. Exod. 25 : 22; Ps. 80 : 1. 

389. Abominations. Jer. 7 : 30. 

390. Solemn feasts. Lam. 2 : 6. 

391. Affront. Confront ? or insult ? 

392. Moloch. Properly Molech. 1 Kings 11 : 7 ; 2 Kings 23 : 10. 
Cf. P. L. 2 : 43-108 ; Od. Nat. 205-210. The word Molech means 
' king.' Besmeared with blood . . . and . . . tears. Zeugma. 

394. Drums. Kimchi, the Jewish commentator, says : ' They 
used to make a noise with drums, that the father might not hear the 
cry of his child and have pity on him.' 

395. Passed through fire. Lev. 18 : 21 ; Ps. 106 : 37, 38 ; Jer. 
32 : 35. 

397. Rabba. 2 Sam. 12 : 26, 27. 

398. Argob, Basan. Deut. 3 : 13. 

399. Arnon. Deut. 3 : 12, 16. The Arnon was the boundary 
between Moab and Israel. 

400. Wisest heart. Transferred epithet ? 

401. Build. 1 Kings 11 : 7 ; 2 Kings 23 : 13. 

403. Grove. Deut 16 : 21 ; 1 Kings 15 : 13 ; Exod. 34 : 13, 14. 

404. Hinnom, Tophet. Jer. 7 : 31 ; 2 Chr. 28 : 31. 

405. Gehenna. A Greek word derived from Hinnom, and in the 
New Testament translated ' hell ; ' so in Matt. 5 : 29, etc. 

406. Chemos. 2 Kings 23 : 13. 

407. Aroar. 1 Chr. 5 : 8. Nebo. Deut. 34 : 1. 

408. Abarim. Num. 33 : 47; Deut. 32 : 49. Hesebon. Milton 
frequently uses the Vulgate forms in s, instead of s7i. Num. 21 : 26. 



140 NOTES. 

409. Horonaim. Jer. 48 : 1-3. Seon. Vulg. Sehou, Auth. Vers. 
Sihon. Num. 21 : 26. 

410. Sibma. Isa. 16 : 9 ; Jer. 48 : 32. 

411. Eleale. Isa. 16 : 9; Jer. 48:34. Asphaltic Pool. The 
Greek and Latin name for the Dead Sea. Were the places named to 
the east or to the west of the Dead Sea and the Jordan ? 

412. Peor. This is Jerome's identification. Num. 25 : 1-3, 9, 
18. See Od, Nat. 197. 

416. Hill of scandal. See v. 403. 

417. Lust hard by hate. Cf. P. L. 9 : 1121-1131, and 2 Sam. 
13 : 15. 

418. Drove. 2 Kings 23. 

419. Bordering. Geii. 15 : 18. 

420. Old. Because noticed in Gen. 2 : 14. Brook. Newton 
suggests Besor, 1 Sam. 30 : 9. 

422. Baalim and Ashtaroth. Judg. 2 : 11-13; 10 : 6. Both 
words are plurals. Baal was the supreme male divinity of the 
Phoenician and Canaanitish peoples, As(h)toreth (Greek Astarte) 
their supreme female divinity. Cf. Od. Nat. 197 ; P. R. 3 : 117. 

426. Cf. P.L.8: 624-625. 

433. Living Strength. 1 Sam. 15 : 29. 

436. Bowed down. Judg. 2 : 14, 15; Ps. 106 : 40-42. 

438. Astoreth. Singular of Ashtaroth. See Od. Nat. 200. Gay- 
ley, Classic Myths, p. 424: ' All Semitic nations, except the Hebrews, 
worshiped a supreme goddess who presided over the moon (or the Star 
of Love), and over all animal and vegetable life and growth. She 
was the Istar of the Assyrians, the Astarte of the Phoenicians, and 
is the analogue of the Greek Aphrodite and the Latin Venus.' 

441. Zeugma. 

443. Offensive mountain. See v. 403. 

444. Large. 1 Kings 4 : 29. 

445. Idolatresses. 1 Kings 11 : 1-5. 

446. Thammuz. Ezek. 8 : 13, 14. See Od. Nat. 204. Gayley, 
Classic Myths, pp. 450-451 : ' Adonis ... is the Phoenician Adon, or 
the Hebrew Adonai, "Lord." The myth derives its origin from the 
Babylonian worship of Thammuz or Adon, who represents the ver- 
dure of spring, and whom his mistress, the goddess of fertility, seeks, 
after his death, in the lower regions. With their departure all birth 
and fruitage cease on the earth. . . . His burial is attended with 



BOOK I. 141 

lamentations. . . . The beautiful loth Idyl of Theocritus contains a 
typical Psalm of Adonis, sung at Alexandria, for his resurrection.' 
See Comus 998-1002, and my edition of Addison's Criticisms on Para- 
dise Lost, p. 47. 

447. Annual wound. Cf. Ovid, Met. 10 : 727. 

449. Amorous ditties. See P. L. 11 : 584. 

450. Smooth. See Vac. Ex. 100; Comus 825; P. L. 4 : 459. 
45(5. Dark idolatries. Ezek. 8 : 12. 

459. Maimed. 1 Sam. 5:1-5. 

460. Grunsel. For groundsill, threshold. 

462. Dagon. Cf. S. A., passim, hut especially vv. 437-478. 

463. Pish. In 1 Sam. 5 : 4, the marginal reading for ' stump ' is 
' fishy part ; ' the stem dag means ' fish.' The fish-like form was a 
natural emblem of fruitfulness. Were the Philistines a sea-faring 
people ? 

464. Azotus. N. T. name for Ashdod (Acts 8 : 40). 

465. Ascalon. For these cities see 1 Sam. 6 : 17. 

466. Accaron. Vulgate form of Ekron. 

467. 2 Kings 5 : 18. 

469. Abbana and Pharphar. 2 Kings 5 : 12. Milton's spelling 
Abbana has no authority. The Authorized and Revised Versions 
have Pharpar. Lucid streams. Quintilian, X. xii. 60, ' amnis luci- 
dus; ' so Ovid, Met. 2 : 365, ' lueidus amnis.' 

471. Leper. 2 Kings 5 : 1-14. 

472. Ahaz. 2 Kings 16 ; 2 Chron. 28 : 20-24. 

477. Crew. See v. 51. 

478. What can you discover about these divinities ? See Od. Nat. 
211-220. 

479. Abused. See P. P. 1 : 455. Define. 

481. See Ovid, Met. 5 : 321-331: ' Typhosus, sent forth from the 
lowest realms of the earth, had struck terror into the inhabitants of 
Heaven, and they had all turned their backs in flight, until the 
land of Egypt had received them in their weariness. . . . The gods 
above had concealed themselves under assumed shapes, . . . the sis- 
ter of Phoebus as a cat, Juno, the daughter of Saturn, as a snow-white 
cow, . . . Mercury, the Cyllenian god, beneath the wings of an ibis.' 
So Apollodorus, I. vi. 3. 

482. Scape. Not 'scape; cf. scapegrace. 

483. Borrowed. Exod. 12 : 35. 



142 NOTES. 

484. Calf. Exod. 32 : 4; Ps. 106 : 19. King. 1 Kings 12 : 28, 29. 

486. Likening. Ps. 106 : 20. 

487. Passed. Exod. 12 : 42. 

488. Equaled. Exod. 12 : 29. 

489. Bleating. Cf. Shak., W. T. IV. iv. 29. 

490. Belial. 2 Cor. 6 : 15. In the O. T., Belial is not to be re- 
garded as a proper name, nor as standing for a deity, but as meaning 
' worthlessness,' 'wickedness,' almost in the abstract. See P. I. 
2 : 108-228. 

495. Eli's sons. 1 Sam. 2 : 12, 22. 

497-502. Cf. P. L. 11 : 714-718. Was Milton thinking of any 
contemporaries ? 

502. Flown. The participle oiflij, confused with that of flow, as 
occasionally in Spenser and Shakespeare. The word here seems to 
mean 'debauched,' like the Lat. fluens ; cf. Liv. VII. xxix. 5, 
' Campani fluentes luxu.' For such a use of the past participle in 
the sense of the present, cf. 'fair-spoken,' Shak., Hen. VIII. IV. ii. 
52; 'moulten,' 1 Hen. IV. III. i. 152; and ' forgotten ' = forgetful, 
Ant. I. iii. 91; Abbott, Shak. Gram., § 374. 

503. Sodom. Gen. 19 : 4-8. 

504. Gibeah. Judges 19 : 16-25. The hospitable doors. The 
first edition has hospitable doors. 

505. Exposed a matron. The first edition has yielded their 
matrons. 

506. Prime. Chief. 

508. Ionian. This word is etymologically akin to Javan, and the 
Ionians were descended from Javan. Javan's. Gen. 10 : 2. Held. 
Accounted, considered. 

510. Titan. Meaning Oceanus. So in Hesiod, Theog. 133. 

511. Brood. The Oceanids, Hes., Theog. 337 ff. 

512. Saturn. Rather, Cronos. See Hes., Theog. 168 ff. 

513. Son. Hes., Theog. 453 ff. 

514. Crete. Hes., Theog. 477 ff. 

515. Ida. In Crete ; see Pausanias V. vii. 6. Thence. Leaving 
that place. Snowy. So II. 1 : 420 ; 18 : 615. 

517. Delphian cliff. Parnassus. So called by Sophocles, O. T. 
463 ; cf. Od. Nat. 178. 

518. Dodona. Ochjs. 14 : 327 : ' He had gone, he said, to Dodona, 
to hear the counsel of Zeus from the high leafy oak tree of the god.' 



BOOK I. 143 

519. Saturn. j£n. 8 : 319-325. But Saturn is not there repre- 
sented as having companions. 

520. Adria. The Adriatic Sea. Hesperian. Italian, or, per- 
haps, Italian and Spanish. 

521. Celtic. Used as a noun, as in Latin and Greek. N. W. 
Europe is meant. Roamed. With direct object ; cf. P. L. 9 : 82 ; 
P. R. 1 : 502. Utmost. British. Cf. Plutarch (Cessation of Oracles 
18) : ' Demetrius said, that of the islands lying about Britain there 
were many desert. ... In that region also, they said, Saturn was 
confined in one of the islands by Briareus, and lay asleep.' To the 
same effect he says (Apparent Face in the 3Ioon's Orb 2G) : ' In one 
of which [islands] the barbarians fable that Saturn is imprisoned by 
Jupiter, while his son lies by his side, as though keeping guard over 
those islands and the sea.' 

523. Damp. Cf. P. L. 10 : 848 ; 11 : 293, 544. 

528. Cf. P. L. 9 : 471. 

529. Worth, not substance. Cf. Spenser, F. Q. II. ix. 2. 9. 

530. First edition, fainted, which would then have been good 
English, since faint is used as a transitive verb by Chaucer and 
Shakespeare. 

531. Straight. Define. 

532. Clarions. A clarion is a shrill-sounding trumpet with a 
narrow tube. Cf. Fairfax's Tasso 1 : 74. Note the imitative sound. 

533. Claimed. So in Piers Plowman, C. 23 : 95-96 : — 

Elde the hore was in the vauntwarde 

And bar the baner byfore Deth ; by right he hit claymede. 

534. Azazel. This is the Hebrew word rendered ' scapegoat ' in 
Lev. 16, but it has also been rendered ' strong in retreating,' and used 
as a proper name ' for some demon or devil by several ancient authors, 
Jewish and Christian.' 

536. Imperial. Cf. P. L. 1 : 378 ; 2 : 446 ; 5 : 801. Ensign. Cf. 
P. L. 6 : 775-776. In the following extract from Webster's Reply to 
Hayne, point out the words taken from this passage : 'Let their last 
feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the 
Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high 
advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre.' 

Advanced. Not ' carried forward ,' as is shown by P. L. 5 : 588-590, 
but 'uplifted,' or perhaps 'waved,' as frequently in Shakespeare. 



144 NOTES. 

537-543. Memorize. 

538. Emblazed. See P. L. 5 : 592. The New Eng. Diet, distin- 
guishes the senses in these two instances. 

540. Leigh Hunt, What is Poetry, remarks : ' Strength is the 
muscle of verse, and shows itself in the number and force of the 
marked syllables ; as, 

Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds. 



Unexpected locations of the accent double this force, and render it 
characteristic of passion and abruptness. And here comes into play 
the reader's corresponding fineness of ear, and his retardations and 
accelerations in accordance with those of the poet : — 

Then in the keyhole turns 
The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 
[Of massy iron or solid rock with ease] 
Unfastens. On a sudden open fly 
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 
The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
Harsh thunder. 

Ab6minable, iniitterable, and worse 
Than fables yet have feigned. 

Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait.' 

How many words of Latin origin are there in this line? 

543. Reign. Kingdom; Lat. regnum. Chaos and old Night. 
Frequently associated by Milton, as in P. L. 2 : 895, 970 ; 3 : 18 ; 10 : 
477. Night is the daughter of Chaos, according toHesiod, Theog. 123. 

545. Ten thousand. How does this compare with the number 
in P. L. 5 : 588? What is the Greek word for ten thousand, and 
what English word is derived from it? 

546. Orient. Bright. Is this the usual modem sense ? What is 
the meaning of the Latin verb from which it is derived ? 

547. Forest. A poetical image for spears, used by Virgil, Lucan, 
Statius, Tasso, and Scott, and in the poem of Beowulf. Thronging. 
See P. L.G : 83. 

548. Serried. Define. See P. L. 6 : 599. 



BOOK I. 145 

550. Landor objects : ' Thousands of years before there were phal- 
anxes, schools of music, or Dorians.' Is this a valid criticism? If 
not, why not ? 

Dorian mood. The two great passages of ancient writers on the 
Dorian mood, or harmony, are from Thucydides and Plato. De- 
scribing the battle of Mantinea, b.c. 418, Thucydides says (5 : 70) : 
' The Argives and their allies advanced to the charge with great 
fury and determination. The Lacedaemonians moved slowly and to 
the music of many flute-players, who were stationed in their ranks, 
and played, not as an act of religion, but in order that the army 
might march evenly and in true measure, and that the line might 
not break, as often happens in great armies when they go into 
battle.' 

Plato, in discussing the different kinds of music, makes Socrates 
say (Rep. 3 : 399) : — 

' Of the harmonies I know nothing, but I want to have one war- 
like, which will sound the word or note which a brave man utters in 
the hour of danger and stern resolve, or when his cause is failing, 
and he is going to wounds or death or is overtaken by some other 
evil, and at every such crisis meets fortune with calmness and 
endurance.' Then, after describing the Phrygian harmony, Socrates 
adds : ' These two harmonies I ask you to leave : the strain of neces- 
sity and the strain of freedom, the strain of the unfortunate and the 
strain of the fortunate, the strain of courage and the strain of tem- 
perance; these, I say, leave.' 

Professor Gildersleeve says {Pindar, p. lxxv) : ' The Dorian mood 
was manly and imposing, like the Dorians themselves; not expan- 
sive nor lively, but grave and strong. What it lacked in liveliness 
and variety, it made up by steadiness and impressiveness. ... It is 
the mood for the tug of war, where the staying quality is priceless.' 

551. Recorders. A kind of flageolet. The word occurs in 
Shakespeare, Haml. III. ii. 303, 360; M. N. D. V. 123. On the latter 
Rolfe has: ' Nares says the instrument was so called because birds 
were taught to record by it; one of the meanings of record being "to 
worble." Cf. Browne, Brit. Past. 2:4: — 

The nymph did earnestly contest 
Whether the hirds or she recorded best.' 

556. Swage. See S. A. 184. 



146 NOTES. 

560. Breathing united force. From II. 3 : 8 : ' But on the other 
side marched the Achaians in silence breathing courage, eager at 
heart to give succor man to man.' 

561. Charmed. Two things should be remembered about this 
word — its connection with music and with magic, both through 
Lat. carmen. See P. L. 2 : 566. 

563. Horrid. What is the primary sense of this word in Latin ? 
Cf. P. L.2 : 710, and ' bristled,' P. L. 6 : 82. 

568. Traverse. Pronounce. 

569. Battalion. See P. L. 6 : 534. 
571. Sums. Cf. 1 Chr. 21 : 1-5. 

Landor says: 'I wish he had not ended one verse with "his 
heart," and the next with " his strength." ' One might add that the 
collocation of ' heart ' and ' hardened ' in successive lines is not musi- 
cal; but cf. Exod. 8 : 15; Dan. 5 : 20. 

571-587. Jebb {Homer, pp. 16-17) has the following interesting 
remarks : — 

' It is . . . important ... to perceive the broad difference between the 
Homeric epic and the literary epic of later ages. The literary epic is com- 
posed, in an age of advanced civilization, by a learned poet. His taste and 
style have been influenced by the writings of many poets before him. He 
commands the historical and antiquarian literature suitable to bis design. 
He composes with a view to cultivated readers, wbo will feel the more 
recondite charms of style, and will understand the literary allusions. The 
general character of the literary epic is well illustrated by the great passage 
of Paradise Lost where Milton is saying how far " beyond compare of mor- 
tal prowess " were the legions of the fallen Archangel. . . . 

It is a single and a simple thought — the exceeding might of Satan's 
followers — that Milton here enforces by example after example. A large 
range of literature is laid under contribution, — the classical poets, the 
Arthurian cycle, the Italian romances of chivalry, the French legends of 
Charlemagne. The lost angels are measured against the Giants, the Greek 
heroes, the Knights of the Round Table, the champions of the Cross or the 
Crescent, and the paladins slain at Roncesvalles. Every name is a literary 
reminiscence. By the time that " Aspramont " is reached, we begin to feel 
that the progress of the enumeration is no longer adding anything to our 
conception of prowess ; we begin to be aware that, in those splendid verses, 
the poet is exhibiting his erudition. But this characteristic of the literary 
epic — its proneness to employ the resources of learning for the production 
of a cumulative effect — is only one of the traits which are exemplified by 
this passage. Homer Mould not have said, as Milton does, that, in compar- 



BOOK I. 147 

ison with the exiled Spirits, all the chivalry of human story was no better 
than, " that small infantry warred on by cranes ;" Homer would have said 
that it was no better than the Pygmies. Homer says plainly and directly 
what he means ; the literary epic likes to say it allusively ; and observe the 
turn of Milton's expression, — " that small infantry ; " i.e., " the small infan- 
try which, of course, you remember in the third book of the Iliad." Lastly, 
remark Milton's phrase, " since created Man," meaning, " since the creation 
of Man." Tbe idiom, so familiar in Greek and Latin, is not English, and so 
it gives a learned air to the style ; the poet is at once felt to be a scholar, 
and the poem to be a work of the study. Homer's language is everywhere 
noble, but then it is also natural. So, within the compass of these few 
lines, three characteristics may be seen which broadly distinguish the liter- 
ary epic from Homer. It is learnedly elaborate, while Homer is spontane- 
ous ; it is apt to be allusive, while Homer is direct ; in language it is often 
artificially subtle, while Homer, though noble, is plain.* 

Cf. Garnett, Milton, p. 152. 

572. In his strength. Modifies what? 

573. ' What an admirable pause is here [after glories]! ' — Lan- 
dor. 

Since created man. A Latinism, for ' since the creation of 
man.' Cf. Comus 48; P. L. 5 : 247; 10 : 332, 687; and the common 
phrase ab urbe condita = 'after the foundation of the City.' 

574-576. Landor would omit the words between force and 
though, together with the word giant. 

575. Addison censures this as a pun (p. 39 of my edition). Cf. 
Jebb, supra. 

576. Warred on by cranes. Cf. II. 3 : 3-6. 

577. Phlegra. In Pindar's (522?-443? B.C.) first Nemean ode, 
Teiresias prophesies of Herakles, ' saying that when on Phlegra's 
plain the gods should meet the giants in battle, beneath the rush 
of his arrows their bright hair should be soiled with earth.' Ovid 
(43 b.c-17 a.d.) represents Apollo as declaring {Met. 10: 150-151): 
' In loftier strains have I sung of the Giants, and the victorious 
thunderbolts scattered over the Phlegr&an plains.' Phlegra was in 
Thrace. 

578. Name some of those that fought at Thebes and Ilium. 

579. Anxiliar. Rare in this form. 

580. Uther's son. King Arthur. See Tennyson, Palace of Art 
105, and The Coming of Arthur. 

581. Modern name of Armorica? 



148 NOTES. 

583. Jousted. Define and pronounce. 

Aspramont, 3Iontalban. ' Romantic names of places mentioned 
in Orlando Furioso.' — Newton. 

584. ' All these places are famous in romances for joustings be- 
tween the baptized and infidels.' — Newton. Landor objects to 
Damasco as being un-English, and as causing hiatus with the next 
word. The form is Italian ; see Ariosto, Orl. Fur. 17 : 18 ; 18 : 3 ff . 

For Milton's 'muster-rolls of names,' cf. P.L. 4:268-283; 11: 
388-411; Introduction, p. 33; and especially Macaulay's Essay on 
Milton. Authors like Coleridge and Longfellow often excel in this 
particular. 

585. ' That is, the Saracens who passed from Biserta in Africa to 
Spain.' — Newton. 

586. ' Mariana and the Spanish historians are Milton's authors for 
saying that he and his army were routed in this manner at Fonta- 
rabbia, which is a strong town in Biscay at the very entrance into 
Spain, and esteemed the key of the kingdom.' — Newton. Cf. Mar- 
mion 6 : 33. Was Charlemagne slain on that occasion ? 

588. Compare. See P. L. 3 : 138 ; 6 : 705 ; 9 : 228 ; S. A. 556. Per- 
haps originally compeer (so New Eng. Diet. s. v.). 

Observed. Cf. Virgil, Georg. 4:210-212: 'Neither Egypt, nor 
mighty Lydia, nor the Parthian tribes, nor Median Hydaspes, so 
deeply reverence (observant) their king.' For a similar, but not 
identical use, see P. L. 10 : 430. 

589-599. Cf. Lewes, Principles of Success in Literature: ' Burke, 
in his Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful, lays down the proposition 
that distinctness of imagery is often injurious to the effect of art. 
" It is one thing," he says, " to make an idea clear, another to make it 
affecting to the imagination. If I make a drawing of a palace or a 
temple or a landscape, I present a very clear idea of those objects ; 
but then (allowing for the effect of imitation, which is something) 
my picture can at most affect only as the palace, temple, or land- 
scape would have affected in reality. On the other hand, the most 
lively and spirited verbal description 1 can give raises a very obscure 
and imperfect idea of such objects ; but then it is in my power to 
raise a stronger emotion by the description than I can do by the best 
painting. This experience constantly evinces. The proper'manner 
of conveying the affections of the mind from one to the other is by 
words; there is great insufficiency in all other method of communi- 



BOOK I. 149 

cation ; and so far is a clearness of imagery from being absolutely- 
necessary to an influence upon the passions, that they may be con- 
siderably operated upon without presenting any image at all, by 
certain sounds adapted to that purpose." If by image is meant only 
what the eye can see, Burke is undoubtedly right. But this is obvi- 
ously not our restricted meaning of the word when we speak of 
poetic imagery; and Burke's error becomes apparent when he pro- 
ceeds to show that there " are reasons in nature why an obscure idea, 
when properly conveyed, should be more affecting than the clear." 
He does not seem to have considered that the idea of an indefinite 
object can only be properly conveyed by indefinite images; any 
image of Eternity or Death that pretended to visual distinctness 
would be false. Having overlooked this, he says, " We do not any- 
where meet a more sublime description than this justly celebrated 
one of Milton, wherein he gives the portrait of Satan with a dignity 
so suitable to the subject. . . . Here is a very noble picture," adds 
Burke, " and in what does this poetical picture consist? In images 
of a tower, an archangel, the sun rising through mists, or an eclipse, 
the ruin of monarchs, and the revolution of kingdoms." Instead of 
recognising the imagery here as the source of the power, he says, 
"The mind is hurried out of itself [rather a strange result!] by a 
crowd of great and confused images ; which affect because they are 
crowded and confused. For, separate them, and you lose much of 
the greatness; and join them, and you infallibly lose the clearness." 
This is altogether a mistake. The images are vivid enough to make 
us feel the hovering presence of an awe-inspiring figure having the 
height and firmness of a tower, and the dusky splendour of a ruined 
archangel. The poet indicates only that amount of concreteness 
which is necessary for the clearness of the picture, — only the height 
and firmness of the tower and the brightness of the sun in eclipse. 
More concreteness would disturb the clearness by calling attention to 
irrelevant details. To suppose that these images produce the effect 
because they are crowded and confused (they are crowded and not 
confused) is to imply that any other images would do equally well, 
if they were equally crowded. " Separate them, and you lose much 
of the greatness." Quite true; the image of the tower would want 
the splendor of the sun. But this much may be said of all descrip- 
tions which proceed upon details. And so far from the impressive 
clearness of the picture vanishing in the crowd of images, it is by 



150 NOTES. 

these images that the clearness is produced; the details make it 
impressive, and affect our imagination.' 

589-602. He . . . faded cheek. Memorize. 

589-620. ' Where, in poetry or painting, shall we find anything 
that approaches the suhlimity of that description ? ' — Landor. 

590. Eminent. Etymological meaning ? 

591. Stood like a tower. Probahly from Dante, Purg. 5 : 14, 
'Sta come torre ferma,' who may have had in mind Statius or Sen- 
eca. Cf., however, 2 Sam. 22 : 3; Ps. 18 : 2; 144 : 2; Jer. 6 : 27. 

591-593. Matthew Arnold, On Translating Homer, says: 'I may 
discuss what, in the abstract, constitutes the grand style ; hut that 
sort of general discussion never much helps our judgment of particu- 
lar instances. I may say that the presence or absence of the grand 
style can only be spiritually discerned ; and this is true, but to plead 
this looks like evading the difficulty. My best way is to take emi- 
nent specimens of the grand style. . . . For example, when Homer 
says : — 

d\kd, 4>i\o<;, Gave /cat <rv' tit) a\v(/>vpeai oiirtos ; 
Kardave kou IIaTpoKA.o?, onep aeo ttoAAoj' a^eivtav, 

(Be content, good friend, die also thou ! why lamentest thou thyself on 
this wise? Patroclus, too, died, who was a far better than thou.) — Iliad 
21 : 106-107. 

that is in the grand style. When Virgil says : — 

Disce, puer, virtutem ex me verumque laborem, 
Fortunam ex aliis, 

(From me, young man, learn nobleness of soul and true effort : learn suc- 
cess from others.) — JEneid 12 : 435-436. 

that is in the grand style. When Dante says : — 

Lascio lo fele, et vo pei dolci pomi 
Promessi a me per lo verace Duca ; 
Ma fino al centro pria convien ch' io tomi, 

(I leave the gall of bitterness, and I go for the apples of sweetness prom- 
ised unto me by my faithful Guide ; but far as the centre it behoves me first 
to fall.) —Inferno 16 : 61-63. 

that is jn the grand style. When Milton says : — 



BOOK I. 151 

His form had yet not lost 
All her original brightness, nor appeared 
Less than Archangel ruined, and the excess 
Of glory obscured, 

— P.L.I: 591-593. 
that, finally, is in the grand style.' 

592. Her. Cf. Ps. 137 : 5. What is the gender of Lat. forma? 
594. Sun. Cf. Rich. II. III. iii. 62-67. 

597. Disastrous. There is a latent astrological sense in this word, 
as in disaster, Haml. I. i. 118. Explain. See Trench, Study of 
Words, Lect. IV. Were eclipses formerly regarded as portentous ? 

598-599. With fear, etc. ' It is said that this noble poem was in 
danger of being suppressed by the licenser on account of this simile.' 
— Newton. 

599-602. See note on vv. 108-109. 

601. Intrenched. So Shakespeare, A. W. II. i. 45. 

603. Considerate. Cf. Rich. III. IV. ii. 30. 

604. Revenge. Cf. v. 107. 

605. Remorse and passion. Define. Is this perhaps an instance 
of hendiadys, as in Virgil, Georg. 2 : 192 ? 

609. Amerced. Deprived. The word carries with it the sugges- 
tion of a penalty or fine. Cf. Rom. and Jul. III. i. 195. 

611. How. Follows behold, v. 605. 

612. Heaven's fire. Old English has heofonfyr for lightning ; 
see my First Book in Old English, Selection VIII. 

613. Scathed. Define. 

614. Growth. Cf. Comus 270 ; P. L. 4 : 629. 

615. Blasted heath. From Macb. I. iii. 77. 

616. Bend. So in P. L. 4 : 978-980. 

619. Thrice. Imitated from Ovid, Met. 11 : 419-421 : ' Three times 
attempting to speak, three times she moistens her face with tears, 
and sobs interrupting her affectionate complaints, she says.' Cf. 
Spenser, F. Q. I. ii. 41. 7-8. 

620. ' What an admirable pause [after forth] ! ' — Landor. 

624. Not inglorious. So Ovid, Met. 9 : 5-6: ' JSFor was it so dis- 
graceful to be overcome, as it is glorious to have engaged.' Event. 
Issue, result. Cf. v. 134. 

625. Does not the repetition of dire look like an inadvertence ? 
627. Foreseeing or presaging. How are these two verbs to be 

discriminated ? 



152 NOTES. 

629. How. How is sometimes used at the beginning of object 
clauses, in the sense of that, with an added connotation of manner. 
Cf. vv. 217, 611, 695, 740. United force. Cf. v. 560. 

632. Puissant. Define. 

633. Emptied Heaven. Cf. Rev. 12 : 4; P. L. 2 : 692; 5 : 710; 
6 : 156. Gregory the Great makes the number of fallen angels one- 
half of the whole. In the Pseudo-Caedmon the number is not made 
specific. The phrase here is rhetorical exaggeration. 

634. Self-raised. Cf. P. L. 2 : 75-81. Do not neglect the expla- 
nation given by Dante, Par. 1 : 82-142. 

636. Host of Heaven. Cf . P. P. 1 : 416 ; 1 Kings 22 : 19. For 
another sense see Deut. 4 : 19 ; 2 Kings 17 : 16. 

642. 'But tempted our attempt. Such a play on words would be 
unbecoming in the poet's own person, and even on the lightest sub- 
ject, but is most injudicious and intolerable in the mouth of Satan, 
about to assail the Almighty.' — Landor. 

Cicero has statuam statuerunt, cursus cucurrerunt, and similar 
phrases. Addison (p. 40 of my edition) allows that ' some of the 
greatest ancients have been guilty ' of this kind of speech, but calls 
it 'poor and trifling.' 

645. Provoked. When once it has been provoked. A use of 
the participle common in Greek and Latin. 

650. Space. Why not God ? 

651. Fame. Rumor, report. So in Latin. 
656. Eruption. See P. L. 8 : 235. 

660-662. Despaired. Like Latin desperatus. So think (cf. P. L. 
9 : 830). 

662. Understood. Cf . P. L. 1 : 121 ; 2 : 187. How has Satan 
brought them to this resolve? What objections would they have 
made at first ? 

664. Millions of flaming swords. So Fairfax's Tasso, 5 : 28 : — 

With that a thousand blades of burnished steel 
Glistered on heaps like flames of fire in sight. 

This may have been suggested by Silius Italicus 1 : 500. 
664. Thighs. A Homeric expression ; thus II. 1 : 194. 
666-668. Highly . . . war. Onomatopoetic. Highly . . . 
Highest. Another etymological paronomasia, as in v. 642. 

668. Milton may have had in mind Ammianus Marcellinus 



BOOK I. 153 

(XXV. iii. 10), speaking, under date of a.d. 363, of Julian the Apos- 
tate: 'When he was brought back to his tent, the soldiers flew to 
avenge him, agitated with anger and sorrow; and, striking their 
spears against their shields, determined to die if Fate so ordered it.' 
According to the same author (XV. viii. 15), applause was indicated 
by the rattling of shields against the knees, while striking the shield 
with the spear was a token of anger and indignation. This was with 
reference to the applause following Constantius' speech to Julian, on 
giving him the title of Caesar, a.d. 355. Bentley, therefore, would 
seem to have been in error, when, in his comment on the Miltonic 
line, he said : ' The known custom of the Roman soldiers, when they 
applauded a speech of their general, was to smite their shields with 
their swords.' If he has in mind Scipio Africanus' address (b.o. 207) 
to the mutineers in Spain (Liv. 28 : 29), at which the loyal troops 
clashed their swords upon their shields, this is expressly stated to 
have been for the purpose of inspiring terror in the others. Other- 
wise the custom of applauding by the rattling of weapons was Celtic 
(Caesar, B. G. VII. xxi. 1.) or Germanic (Tacitus, Germ. 11 ; Hist. 
V. xvii. 4). 

670. Grisly. Cf . P. L. 2 : 701 ; 4 : 821 ; P. R. 4 : 430. Define. 

671. Belched. Like Lat. eructare, as in Mn. 3 : 576. 

672-673. Landor remarks : ' It was hardly worth his while to 
display in this place his knowledge of mineralogy, or his recollection 
that Virgil, in the wooden horse before Troy, had said, 

Uterumque armato rnilite complent ; 

and that some modern poets had followed him.' But cf. Haml. 

I. i. 136-137: — 

Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life 
Extorted treasure in the womb of earth. 

674. Cf. Jonson, Alchemist, Act 2, Sc. 1: 

It turns to sulphur, or to quicksilver, 
Who are the parents of all other metals. 

Special appropriateness of sulphur here ? 

Winged with speed. For this and similar collocations of winged 
and speed, see P. L. 2 : 700 ; 4 : 788 ; 5 : 744. So ' winged haste,' 
Shakespeare, 1 Hen. IV. IV. iv. 2. 



154 NOTES. 

675. Brigade. Milton's spelling is brigad. The stress is of 
course on the first syllable. 

675-678. ' Nothing is gained to the celestial host by comparing it 
with the terrestrial. Angels are not promoted by brigading with 
sappers and miners.' — Landor. 

676. Pioneers. Milton spells, pioners. 

677. Camp. Perbaps nearly = army, as in Sams. Agon. 1497. 

678. Cast. Cf. Od. Nat. 123. Mammon. ' This name is Syriac, 
and signifies riches. Ye cannot serve God and Mammon, says our 
Saviour, Matt. 6 : 24. . . •. Some look upon Mammon as the God of 
riches, and Mammon is accordingly made a person by our poet, and 
was so by Spenser before him, whose description of Mammon and 
his cave our poet seems to have had his eye upon in several places.' 
— Newton. 

For Spenser's Mammon see F. Q. Bk. 2, Canto 7, the whole of 
which is well worth reading with care. For Milton's view of riches 
see P. R.I: 426-456. For Mammon's speech see P. L.I: 229-283. 

679. Erected. Not only 'erect,' 'upright,' but also 'aspiring,' 
'high-souled,' as in P. R. 3 : 27; a sense of Lat. erectus. So Cicero 
couples celsus and erectus, now in the literal, now in the figurative 
sense. 

679-684. Mammon . . . beatific. Memorize. 
682. Heaven's pavement. Rev. 21 : 21 ; cf . 11. 4:2,' golden floor.' 
684. Vision beatific. Cf . On Time 18 ; P. L. 3 : 62. The beatific 
vision is the direct vision of God, as described by Dante in the last 
canto of the Divine Comedy. Cf. vv. 97-105 (Cary's trans.) : — 

With fixed heed, suspense and motionless, 

Wondering I gazed ; and admiration still 

Was kindled, as I gazed. It may not be 

That one who looks upon that light can turn 

To other object, willingly, his view. 

For all the good that will may covet, there 

Is summed ; and all, elsewhere defective found, 

Complete. 

685-687. So Ovid, Met. 138-140: 'Men even descended into the 
entrails of the earth ; and riches were dug up, the incentives to vice, 
which the earth had hidden.' 

688. Treasures better hid. From Horace, Od. III. iii. 49-50: 
' Undiscovered gold, then better placed when earth conceals it still.' 



BOOK I. 155 

689. Wound. Cf. Ovid, Met. 1:101-102: 'The earth . . . 
wounded by no ploughshares.' Again, in Met. 2 : 286-287, the Earth 
speaks: ' I endure toounds from the crooked plough.' 

690. Digged. Why not dug? Admire. Wonder. So P. L. 
2 : 677. A Latinism. 

690-692. Let none . . . bane. Memorize. 

692. Precious bane. An oxymoron, like ' pious fraud,' or Shake- 
speare's (Rom. I. i. 186) ' Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, 
sick health.' 

693. Boast in. The in, for of, is possibly a Latinism. Cf. Ps. 
44 : 8 ; also Ps. 34 : 2. 

694. Babel. Cf. P. L. 3 : 466-468. Others explain it as Babylon, 
or the temple of Belus in that city. Works. Probably the Pyra- 
mids. Ancient authors relate that 360,000 men were employed for 
nearly twenty years on one of the Pyramids. Memphian. See note 
on v. 307. 

696. Newton explains strength and art as nominatives. 
700. Cells. Furnaces; see v.' 706. 

703. Founded. Fused, melted; so Lat. fundare. Cf. Eng. 
foundry. 

704. Bullion. Impure gold or silver. Here used as an adjec- 
tive. Milton, in his Church Government, speaks of ' extracting gold 
and silver out of the drossy bullion of the people's sins.' 

707. Hollow nook. When an iron furnace is tapped, the molten 
iron flows in a glowing stream down long channels in a bed of sand. 
Side channels branch out on each side of the main channels, as near 
to each other as possible, and these are filled with the iron. These 
smaller channels, called ' pigs,' are what Milton evidently means by 
1 hollow nooks.' 

708. Organ. ' This simile is as exact as it is new. . . . Milton 
frequently fetches his images from music, ... as he was very fond 
of it, and was himself a performer upon the organ and other instru- 
ments.' — Newton. 

710-712. Memorize. 

711. Like an exhalation. See II. 1 : 359, 'rose like a mist;' 
Tennyson, Tithonus 63, ' While Ilion like a mist rose into towers.' 
Thus buildings rose in some of the masques of the period, to the 
sound of music. At the Twelfth Night masque of 1637, at White- 
hall, ' in the further part of the scene the earth opened, and there 



156 NOTES. 

rose up a richly adorned palace, seeming all of goldsmith's work, 
with porticoes vaulted on pillars of rustic work. . . . Above these 
ran an architrave, frieze, and cornice.' 

712. Symphonies. Harmonies. See P. L. 3 : 368; 5 : 162; 11 : 
595 ; Od. Nat. 132. 

713. Pilasters. Define this, Doric pillars, architrave, cornice, 
and frieze. See Addison's criticism of these terms at p. 41 of 
my edition. 

711. Doric. Cf . v. 550. Why not Corinthian ? 

716. Bossy. In high relief, embossed. 

717. Roof was fretted gold. ' Fretwork is fillets interwoven at 
parallel distances. This kind of work has usually flowers in the 
spaces, and must glitter much, especially by lamplight.' — Newton. 
Roof may be taken in the sense of ' ceiling,' and, since fretted, may 
translate Lat. laquear. Laquear aureum, as in sEn. 1 : 726, would 
thus be exactly 'roof of fretted gold.' 

718. Alcairo. El-Kahirah, the city of victory, now known as 
Cairo. The city was built, after the capture of Memphis by the 
Arabians in 638, about six miles distant from the latter. 

720. Belus. The temple of Belus is described by Herodotus, 
1 : 181-183. 

723. Her stately highth. An accusative of extent. Define 
straight. 

721. So Ovid, Met. 4 : 762-763: 'The folding doors thrown open, 
the entire gilded halls are displayed.' 

725. Ample spaces. Ampla spatia is found in Seneca, Here. Fur. 
673. 

726-730. From . . . sky. Cf . ^En. 1 : 726-727 : ' From the fretted 
roof of gold hang down the burning lamps, and night gives place to 
flaming torches.' 

728. Cressets. Define. 

729. Asphaltus. Define. Why are these substances used, instead 
of other illuminating oils? 

730. Hasty. Adjective used almost as an adverb, somewhat as 
horizontal, v. 595. 

734. Sceptred angels. Like the ' sceptred chiefs ' of II. 2 : 86. 

736. Gave to rule. Like Lat. mulcere cledit, jEn. 1 : 66. Cf. 
P. L. 3 : 243; 9 : 818; P. R. 4 : 385. 

737. Hierarchy. The nine orders of the hierarchy are, according 



BOOK I. 157 

to the Pseudo-Dionysius (see note on v. 129), (1) Seraphim, (2) Cher- 
ubim, (3) Thrones, (4) Dominions, (5) Virtues, (6) Powers, (7) Prin- 
cipalities, (8) Archangels, (9) Angels. 

740. Mulciber. Another name for Hephaistos, or Vulcan, from 
Lat. mulcere, to soften, in allusion to this property of fire. See Ov. 
Met. 2 : 5. 

Fell. Homer puts into the mouth of Hephaistos the account of 
his own fall. Speaking to his mother Hera, he says (II. 1 : 590-593) : 
' Yea, once ere this, when I was fain to save tliee, he [Zeus] caught 
me by my foot and hurled me from the heavenly threshold ; all day 
I flew, and at the set of sun I fell in Lemnos, and little life was in 
me.' 

742. Sheer. Define. Crystal battlements. Cf . P. L. 2 : 1049 ; 
6 : 860. 

Daniel Webster, in a letter to Rev. Mr. Brazer (Nov. 10, 1828), 
makes the following comment on this passage: 'What art is man- 
ifest in these few lines! The object is to express great distance 
and great velocity, neither of which is capable of very easy sugges- 
tion to the human mind. We are told that the angel fell a day, a 
long summer's day; the day is broken into forenoon and afternoon, 
that the time may seem to be protracted. He does not reach the 
earth till sunset; and then, to represent the velocity, he " drops," one 
of the very best words in the language to signify sudden and rapid 
fall, and then comes a simile, " like a falling star." ' 

745. Landor calls this a noble line, but insists that ' the six fol- 
lowing are quite superfluous,' and are 'insufferable stuff.' 

For the simile, cf. II. 4 : 75-78 : ' Even as the son of Kronos the 
crooked counsellor sendeth a star, a portent for mariners or a wide 
host of men, bright shining, and therefrom are scattered sparks in 
multitude; even in such guise sped Pallos Athene to earth.' Cf. 
P. R. 4 : 619-620; Comus 80-81. 

746. Find Lemnos on the map. iEgaean. The stress on the first 
syllable. 

748. Availed. Cf. the similar use of xpatanuv, as in II. 5 : 53, and 
of prodesse, AZn. 11 : 843. 

750. Engines. Contrivances, devices, inventions, like Lat. in- 
genia. 

751. Sarcasm. 

753. Awful. Cf. P. L. 4 : 847. Define. 



158 TB8. 

Pandemonium. I: has been remarked that several features 
of the building erected by Muleiber (cf. especially - " -~ | ~ J23 ff.) 
suggest the Pantheon. This view was no doubt suggested by the 
fact that Milton coined the word Pandemonium on the evident 
analogy of Pantheon. The hint had been found in 
Sonc 1 - . 40). where we read: — 

On Ida hill there stands a castle strong ; 
They that it huilt call it Pantkeothe*. 

_er resort a rascal rahble throng 
Of miscreant wights. But if that wiser men 
May name that sort, PandemoHiathe* 
would it clepe. 

758 Sqasred. I I I 1 3 2 _ S pi u- 1 rag iment = ^quad- 
lee the etymol _ Ethe latter word. 

With this assembly of the fallen angels ci*. Fairfax - T 
Bk. IV. Which is the more impress: 

A' seeas. Entrance- way. channel of approach. So ^£n. 
I 22 

C overed field. What notion does this give us 
of the hall? What wasl of the lists described in the seventh 

chapter of Iran i 

Wont ride. -eldoni used with the simple infini- 

I iSh -speare the only instance is Oth. 
II. iii. 190 (Abbott's ShaJ: ind here the folio editions 

have to. In OE.. reunion sometimes had the prepositional, some- 
times the simple infinitive. How is icont related to tm n iant 
8 ol dan's. Soldan for Sultan, Ital. Soldano. 

Paynim is i doublet of paganism, derived through the 
Old French. It was early used in OF. itself, however, and then in 
English, to denote " pagan : - ii. 26. etc. 

What difference between these two kinds of jousting ? Cf. 
Icanhoe, chap. viii. 

" " Swarmed. C: J .1 : 

768. Hiss of rustling wings. >~ lace the sibilancy. Milton 
perhaps had in mind the Prom. Bound 124-126: — 

4la.« me ! What a murmur and motion Inear 

As : ": :r i- ~; : 

And the air undersings 

The light stroke of their wings. 



BOOK I. 159 

As bees. II. 2 : 87-91 : ' Even as when the tribes of thronging bees 
issue from some hollow rock, ever in fresh procession, and fly clus- 
tering among the flowers of spring, and some on this hand and some 
on that fly thick: even so, 5 etc. Imitated in .En. 6 : 706-709. 

768-788. Landor thinks the ' poem is much better without th< 
and in any case would retrench, in lines 772-775, or on . . . affairs. 

769. Cf. Virgil, Georg. 1 : 217. 

770. See Georg. 4 : 21-22. 

771. Fresh dews. So Ovid, Fasti 3 : 880, 'rore recente.' See 
also Lye. 29. 

773. Straw-built. Gray has borrowed this epithet for his Elegy. 

771. Balm. The melisphyllum of Georg. -4 : 63. Expatiate. 
Wander at will; so Ovid, Met. 2 : 202, ' exspatiuntur equi.' Con- 
fer. Talk over, discuss. A Latinism. 

776. Straitened. Cf. P. L. 9 : 323. Signal given. /En. 12 : 129, 
'dato signo.' 

777. Cf . P. L. 6 : 351-353. ' I wish I had not been called upon to 
" Behold a wonder." '—Landor. 

778. Cf. v. 576. 

780. Pygmean. Cf. v. 575. 

781. Beyond the Indian mount. According to Pliny, Xat. 
Hist. VII. ii. 19. 

783-784. Sees,, or dreams he sees. So Mn. 6 : 454, ' Aut videt, 
ant vidisse putat.' 

785. Arbitress. Spectator. Night and Diana are called arbitrx 
in Hor. Ep. 5 : 50. 

786. Pale course. An instance of transferred epithet. sEn. 
7 : 8-9, ' Xec Candida cursus Luna negat.' Milton may also have 
had in mind Hor., Epist. I. iv. 5-7. 

795. Recess. Retreat. Cf. P. L. 4 : 708. 

796. A thousand. A round number, as often in poetry : cf . note 
on v. 545. Golden. Inlaid with gold, probably ; so the xpvo-eio? epovos 
of II. 8 : 442. 

797. Frequent. Crowded. Apparently limits conclave, since 
full could hardly modify a plural. May conclave be therefore used 
in its Latin sense of ' chamber,' ' locked room ' ? This sense was then 
current in English, and seems to agree better with recess. Or may 
frequent and full possibly limit seats? If so. why full? Several 
critics have here supposed that conclave alluded to the assembly 



160 NOTES. 



of Cardinals met for the election of a Pope. See consistory, P. R. 
1 :42. 

798. Summons read. See note on v. 573. Consult. Meeting 

for consultation. TheAew Eng. Diet, has: 'in 17th century often 
specifically a secret meeting for purposes of sedition or intrigue ; a 
cahal.' 

At this point, if not before, the Introduction should he carefully 
perused, and the views of the poet-critics in Part IV. compared with 
those which the student himself has formed. 



BOOK II. 



1. High, etc. Why the inversion? The beginning may have 
been suggested by Ovid, Met. 2:1-2: 'The palace of the Sun was 
raised high, on stately columns, bright with radiant gold, and car- 
buncle that rivals the flames.' See also F. Q. I. iv. 8. 

1-6. High . . . eminence. Memorize. 

2. Wealth of Ormus and of Ind. 'That is, diamonds, a 
principal part of the wealth of India, where they are found, and 
of the island Ormus, in the Persian gulf, which is [was] the mart for 
them.' — Pearce. Perhaps Milton may have heard of the Koh-i-nur, 
in the possession of Aurungzebe. To Ben Jonson, Ormus was the 
island from which ■ drugs were brought. Abel Drugger, who deals 
in tobacco and minerals used in alchemy, is indirectly promised by 
Subtle : — 

There is a ship now, coming from Ormus, 
That shall yield him such a commodity 
Of drugs . 

Considering the relations between Andrew Marvell and Milton, it is 
interesting to find the former writing, in his So?ig of the Emigrants 
in Bermuda : — 

He hangs in shades the orange bright 

Like golden lamps in a green night, 

And does in the pomegranates close 

Jewels more rich than Ormus shoivs. 



BOOK II. 161 

3. Landor suggests there for or, saying, ' Are not Ormus and 
Ind within the gorgeous East ? ' 

4. It is said that this was done at the coronation of .Tamerlane. 
Barbaric . . . gold. From Mn. 2 : 504, 'barbarico . . . auro,' where 
it means Phrygian or perhaps other Asiatic gold. See Shak., Ant. 

II. v. 45-46: — 

I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail 
Rich pearls upon- thee. 

Pearl. Plural. So Sonn. 12 : 8, and often in Shakespeare. 

5. By merit. Like Lat. merito, deservedly, justly. 

6. Eminence. Twofold sense ? Despair. See P. L. 1 : 126. 
9. Success. Issue, result; a Shakespearian sense. 

10. Proud imaginations. Cf. Luke 1 : 51 ; Jer. 3 : 17 ; Rom. 
1 : 21 ; 2 Cor. 10 : 5. 

11. Powers and Dominions. See note on 1 : 737. 

14. Give. Esteem, as in Shak., W. T. III. ii. 96 : 'Your favor I 
do give lost.' It is difficult to decide between this sense and that 
of ' give up,' or, on the other hand, that of ' admit,' ' allow.' 

18. Me though, etc. Why the inversion ? What is the last 
verb which governs me? Cf. Hor., Od. I. v. 13. 

Note that Satan will allow nothing to the election of God. 

32. None, etc. Yet cf. P. L. 1 : 262-263. 

33. Precedence. Pronounce. 

34. That. What part of speech ? 

35. With this advantage, etc. Is it true that adversity often 
establishes closer confederations than prosperity ? 

40-42. By . . . speak. Cf. P. L. 1 : 662 ; F. Q. VII. vi. 21 : — 

Wherefore it now behoves us to advise 
What way is best to drive her to retire, • 
Whether by open force or counsell wise ; 
Areed, ye sonnes of God, as best ye can devise. 

See also II. xi. 7 : — 

T" assayle with open force or hidden guyle. 

43. Moloch. Cf. P. L. 1 : 392-405. Macaulay, in his Essay on 
Milton, compares James II. to Moloch. What renders this plausible ? 
Sceptred king. As in II. 1 : 279. 

45. Fiercer by despair. Cf. P. L. 1 : 191 ; 2 : 107, 126. 



162 NOTES. 

46. Trust. Cf. P. L. 1 : 40; Job 40 : 23; Luke 24 : 21. 

50. Recked. Define. 

51. Sentence. Judgment, vote. Open war. "What is finally 
decided upon? By whom devised? How many opinions have first 
been expressed, by whom, and to what purport? 

55. Millions. Cf. P. L. 1 : 664. 

57. Heaven's fugitives. Fugitivus with the genitive is a Latin 
construction. 

58. Opprobrious. Cf. P. L. 1 : 403. 

61. All at once. When the celebrated Edmund Burke was 
about eighteen years of age, he was a member of a debating club in 
Dublin. From the minutes of this club we learn (Todd's edition of 
Milton, vol. I. p. 156) : ' Friday, June 5, 1747, Mr. Burke, being or- 
dered to speak the speech of Moloch, receives applause for the deliv- 
ery, it being in character. Then the speech was read and criticized 
upon; its many beauties illustrated; the chief judged to be its con- 
formity with the character of Moloch : — 

No, let us rather choose, 
Armed with Hell-flames and fury, all at once 
O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way. 

The words "all at once" (the metre not considered) seemed to the 
whole assembly to hurt the sentence by stopping the rapidity and 
checking the fierceness of it, making it too long and tedious. Then 
was Belial's speech read, to the great delight of the hearers.' 

62. Towers. Cf. vv. 129, 1049. 

64 ff. Cf. Prom. Bound 920-923: — 

Such a foe 
He doth himself prepare against himself, 
A wonder of unconquerable hate, 
An organizer of sublimer fire 
Than glares in lightnings, and of grander sound 
Than aught the thunder rolls,— outthundering it. 

65. Almighty engine. See P. L.6: 749-766, 844-852. 

67. Black fire. Cf. P.L.I: 63, 182. 

69. Mixed. Disturbed, convulsed. Imitated from the poetical 
sense of Lat. miscere, as in JEn. 1 : 124 ; 2 : 487. Tartarean. In- 
fernal. 



BOOK II. 163 

70. His own invented torments. Torments invented by him- 
self. 

72. Upright. Meaning here ? 

73. Bethink. Cf. Comus 820. Them. Define. ' Drench. 
Draught. 

74. Forgetful lake. Cf . P. L. 1 : 266, and note. 

75. Proper. Define. Cf. P.L.3 : 634; 8 : 619. So Lat. proprius. 

76. Native seat. Cf. P. L. 1 : 633-634. 

77. Adverse. Contrary, unnatural. 

82. Event. See P. L. 1 : 624. 

83. Our Stronger. Cf. 'our betters.' 

88. Unextinguishable fire. II. 16 : 132, der/fcVn; 0*d£. 

89. Exercise. Plague, afflict. So the Lat. exercere, in sEn. 
6 : 739. 

90. Vassals. Cf. v. 252. 

91. Torturing hour. Cf. Haml. I. v. 2; M. N. D. V. i. 37. 

92. Calls. Why not call? Penance. Cf. P. L. 10 : 550. 

94. What. Like Lat. quid. Define. Incense. Kindle, inflame. 
A Latinism. Cf. Ps. 2 : 12; Isa. 5 : 25. 
97. Essential. Existence, being. 

104. Fatal. Ordained by fate. A Latinism. Cf. P. L. 1 : 133. 

106. Denounced; Announced, menaced. A Latinism. Cf. 
P. L. 11 : 815. 

109. Belial. Cf . P. L. 1 : 490-505 ; 6 : 620-627. Macaulay compares 
Charles II. to him ; see note on v. 43. Act. Action accompanying 
the delivery of a speech. A Latinism, as in Quintilian IX. ii. 4. So 
action in Haml. I. ii. 84. Humane. Polite; as in Latin. Note 
the effect of contrast in this succession of speeches, as in II. 1 : 223- 
249. 

113. Manna. A sweet sirup or gum exuded from certain plants. 
Not the manna of the Bible. Here almost = ' honey.' 

113-114. Make the worse appear The better reason. Literally 
from the Greek; see Plato, Apol. 18 B, and cf. Aristophanes, Clouds 
114. 

114. Dash. Frustrate ; so in Shak. 3 Hen. VI. II. i. 118, ' to dash 
our late decree.' 

123. Conjecture. Interpretation (of omens), augury, foreboding. 
An obsolete sense. 

124. Feat of arms. French, fait d' amies. 



164 NOTES. 

127. Utter dissolution. Cf. vv. 93-98. 

130. Access. See P. L. 1 : 761. 

131. Bordering Deep. Cf. v. 890 ff. 

132. Obscure. Define. 
134-141. Cf. vv. 60-70. 

142-143. Our final hope Is flat despair. Cf . 3 Hen. VI. II. iii. 9. 
146 ff. Cf. Shak., Meas. III. i. 118-132. 

147. Intellectual being. Cf. vv. 557-569. 

148. Cf. P. L. 8: 188 ff. ; Sams. Agon. 302-306. 
150. Landor would omit. 

152. Let. Supposing. So in Shak., Rich. II. I. i. 59; Hen. VIII. 
IV. ii. 146. 

156. Belike. Define. Impotence. Ungovernableness, want of 
self-restraint. Horace, Epod. 16:62, uses impotentia in the sense 
of ' fiery violence.' 

159. Endless. Adjective used as adverb. 

163 ff. Note the succession of questions. What effect do they 
produce? There is a suggestive parallel in the second speech of 
Oceanus in the Prometheus Bound. 

165. Amain* Define. 

166. Afflicting. See P. L. 1 : 186. 

169. Chained on the burning lake. Cf . P. L. 1 : 210. 

170. Cf . Isa. 30 : 33. 

171. Sevenfold. Cf. Gen. 4:15. 

174. Red right hand. The rubente dextera of Hor. Od. I. ii. 2-3. 

176. Cf. King Lear III. ii. 2. 

180-182. Cf . uEn. 1 : 44-46 : ' As he [Ajax] gasped out flames from 
his transfixed breast, she caught him in the whirlwind, and impaled 
him on a jagged rock.' Also jEn. 6:75: 'The sport of rushing 
winds.' 

182. Racking. Cf . P. L. 1 : 126 ; 3: 203 ; 11 : 481. 

184. Converse. Consort, keep company. 

185. Lowell (Shakespeare Once More) observes: ' The Greek dram- 
atists were somewhat fond of a trick of words in which there is a 
reduplication of sense as well as of assonance, as in the Electra : — 

"AAe/crpa y^paanova-af avvfievaid Te 

So Shakespeare : — 

Unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled; 



BOOK II. 165 

And Milton after him, or, more likely, after the Greek : — 

Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved.' 

186. Hopeless. Like despaired, P. L. 1 : 660. 
188. Dissuades. Thus Livy speaks of ' dissuading peace ' 
(30: 37). Force or guile. Cf . P. L. 1 : 121. 

191. Cf. Ps. 2:4. 

195. Trampled. Cf . Ps. 91 : 13 ; Isa. 63 : 3. 

196. Better these than worse. Cf. v. 163 ff. What similar 
thought is there in Hamlet's soliloquy? 

199. To suffer, as to do. See P. L. 1 : 158. 

209. Sustain and bear. Have there "been any previous instances 
of coupled synonyms ? Why may they have "been employed ? 

210. Supreme. Pronounce. Is it pronounced the same in v. 
236? 

213. Punished. Inflicted as punishment. 

214. Cf. v. 170. 

216. Vapor. Perhaps ' heat ' (a Latinism) ; or in the twofold sense. 
219. Familiar. As familiar. 
220-221. Notice the rime. 

222. What chance, what change. Cf . P. R. 4 : 625. 

223. Waiting. See P. L. 1 : 604. 

224. For happy. In respect to happiness, to a happy lot. 

225. Make an analysis of Moloch's and Belial's speeches, and show 
what arguments of the former are replied to by the latter, and with 
what force. 

227. Ignoble ease. The ignobile otium of Virgil, Georg. 4 : 764. 
227-228. 'These words [ignoble ease and peaceful sloth, Not 

peace] are spoken by the poet in his own person, very improperly ; 
they would have suited the character of any fallen angel, but the 
reporter of the occurrence ought not to have delivered such a sen- 
tence.' — Landor. 

228. Mammon. Cf. P. L. 1 : 678 ff. 

234. Argues. Shows, proves. So P. L. 4 : 830. 

243. Halleluiahs. Literal meaning 1 ? Cf. Rev. 19:1-6; P. I. 
6 : 744; 7 : 634; 10 : 642. Lordly. Adjective or adverb? 

244. Breathes. Exhales, emits the smell of. 

245. Odors. Cf. Od. Va*.23; P L. 4 : 162; P.R.I: 364; Sams. 
Agon. 987. Do these passages suggest any relations to spice or gums ? 



166 NOTES. 

250. Impossible. Limits what? 

254. Live to ourselves. Cf. Hor., Epist. I. xviii. 107, ' ut mihi 
vivam.' 

256. Prom. Bound. 966-967 : — 

I would not barter — learn thou soothly that — 

My suffering for thy service. 

261. Scan the line. 

264. Ps. 18 : 11 ; 97 : 2. 

271. Wants. Lacks. 

273. What light does this shed upon the character of Mammon ? 
In what work have we already seen him engaged? 

275. Elements. Surroundings in which one feels at home; cf. 
' to be in one's element.' See King Lear II. iv. 58. For the general 
thought, see vv. 217-220. 

278. Sensible. Sense. Adjective for noun. 

282. Dismissing. How does this, and vv. 187 ff., agree with 
P. L.\ : 661-669? What is the relation of Mammon's speech to that 
of Belial? 

285 ff. This simile seems to owe something to reminiscences of 
sEn. 3 : 554 ff., as the mariners sail past Charybdis: 'From afar we 
hear the moaning of the main, . . . and the breakers roaring to the 
shore. . . . Thrice did the cliffs roar amidst the rocky caverns (cava 
saxa, hollow rocks), thrice did we see the foam dashing up, and the 
starry skies dripping. Meanwhile, the wind and sun leave us weary 
mariners at once, and ignorant of our course we drift to the coast of 
the Cyclops. The harbor is sheltered from the approach of winds.' 
The critics generally refer to sE?i. 10 : 96-99, which should be com- 
pared. 

289. Craggy bay. Perhaps suggested by jEn. 2 : 157 ff., espe- 
cially 162-163 : ' The toil-worn crew of iEneas . . . turn towards the 
coast of Africa. . . . An island forms a harbor. . . . On either side 
are huge rocks, and twin cliffs which tower frowning towards the 
sky.' This, it will be remembered, is after a great storm. 

294. Sword of Michael. P. L.G : 250 ff. 

297. Process. Pronounce. 

299-307. How are ' Atlantean shoulders' fitter than any other 
' to bear the weight of mightiest monarchies ' ? Such is the tenor of 
Landor's comment, who also objects that a pillar of state is not aptly 
represented as rising, in this sense. 



BOOK II. 167 

299. Than. What part of speech ? 

300. None higher sat. Cf. P. L. 1 : 79. 

302. Pillar of state. So Lat. columen reipublicse, as in Cicero, 
Sest. 8 : 19. Deep on his front engraven. Cf., from the same 
chapter of the oration : ' Such a contraction was there of his forehead 
that the whole republic appeared to be resting on that brow.' The 
whole chapter should be read, since Milton evidently had it in mind 
when writing this passage. 

306. Atlantean shoulders. In his oration for Flaccus (37 : 94) 
Cicero appeals to the judges as bearing the whole state upon their 
shoulders. 

310. Cf. v. 11. 

312. Style. Cf. P. L. 11 : 695. Define. 

313. Popular vote. How many times had the popular vote been 
indicated by applause ? Had the vote always been the same ? 

317. Dungeon. Cf. P.L.I: 61. 

322. Reserved. An imitation of the Lat. construction of re- 
servare with the dative. Not so in P. L. 9 : 768. 

327. Iron sceptre. See Ps. 2 : 9. 

328. Golden. We find the golden sceptre in classical and in 
Biblical literature, e.g., II. 1 : 15; Esther 1 : 11. 

329. What. Landor says, 'To my ear What sit sounds less 
pleasingly than Why sit.' 

330. Determined. Define. 

336. To. To the extent of. 

337. Reluctance. Resistance. The primary sense of the Latin 
verb. Cf. P. L. 10 : 1045. 

345 ff. Cf. p. 192, v. 29 ff. ; p. 195, v. 129; p. 196, v. 156 ff. 

346. Fame. Cf. P. L. 1 : 650-654. 

349. Less. Cf. Ps. 8 : 5. 

353. Imitated from II. 1 : 528-530 : ' Kronion spake, and nodded 
his dark brow; . . . and he made great Olympus quake.' So JSn. 
9 : 104. Cf. Heb. 6 : 13, 17. 

Landor wishes ' that Cicero, who so delighted in harmonious sen- 
tences, and was so studious of the closes,' could have heard this. He 
criticizes the two preceding lines, however, for the identical cadence 
of the last four words. 

358. Force or subtlety. Cf. P.L.I: 121. 

359. Arbitrator. In Judges 11 : 27, where the A. V. has ' judge,' 



168 NOTES. 

the Vulgate has arbiter. Ovid (Tr. V. ii. 47) calls Augustus ' arbiter 
imperii.' 

367. Puny. Etymology ? Habitants. Elsewhere iu Milton. 
Lat. habitantes. 

369. Repenting. Gen. 6 : 6. 

373 ff . Cf . p. 19G, v. 166 ff. 

375. Frail original. Adam. 

376. Advise. Possibly = consider. 

379. Pleaded. What form is sometimes ignorantly substituted 
for this ? 

384. Mingle. As if a translation of the Lat. miscere. An ex- 
ample is Juv. 2 : 25. 

387. States. Persons representing a body politic. So Shak., 
King John II. i. 395 : ' How like you this wild counsel, mighty 
states ? ' 

388. All. Modifies eyes, or their? Sparkled in all their 
eyes. Cf. Shak., Much Ado III. i. 51. 

389. He. Who ? 

391. Synod. Cf. P.L.6: 156 ; 10 : 661 ; 11 : 67. Why preferable 
to such a word as ' senate ' ? Gods. Cf . P. L. 3 : 341 ; in Ps. 8 : 5, 
where the A. V. has ' angels,' the Hebrew has 'gods; ' see also Ps. 
97 : 7. 

393. Fate. Cf. v. 197. 

394. Seat. Cf. P. L. 1 : 634. 
396. Chance. Part of speech ? 

398. Not vmvisited. Cf. V All. 57; P. L. 1 : 442; 8 : 503. 

400. Cf. v. 141. 

402. Balm. Not as in 1 : 774; here figurative, 'soothing influ- 
ence.' 

Landor's opinion is that here bursts forth 'such a torrent of elo- 
quence as there is nowhere else in the regions of poetry, although 
strict and thick, in v. 412, sound unpleasantly.' With 402 ff. cf. p. 
196, v. 175 ff . 

404. Wandering. Cf. v. 830. 

406. Palpable obscure. Tenebrse palpabiles is found in ecclesi- 
astical Latinity: Oros. 1 : 10; Jerome on Isa. 10. 32. 14. The expres- 
sion doubtless comes from Exod. 10 : 21, ' darkness which may be felt ' 
('tenebrse, . . . ut palpari queant' ). Obscure. Obscurum is a noun 
in Latin; so in Virgil, Georg. 1 : 478. Cf. P. L.\: 314. 



BOOK II. 169 

407. Uncouth. OE uncuth. Meaning? 

408. Indefatigable. So Tasso calls Gabriel's wings in Jer. Del. 
1 : 14. 

409. Vast Abrupt. Perhaps a reminiscence of Virg., JEn. 3. 
421-122 : — Ter gurgite vast0 s 

Sorbet in abruptum fluctus. 

Abruptum is here a nonn, like obscurum above. 

409. Arrive. Without the preposition, as in Shak., 3 Hen. VI. 
V. iii. 8; J. Q. I. ii. 110. 

410. Happy Isle. Cicero {Nat. Deor. 2: 66) likens the earth to 
a great island — 'quasi magnam quandam insulam.' By a some- 
what similar figure, Lucretius (5 : 276) uses the term mare aeris, ' sea 
of air' (and so Shak., Timon IV. ii. 21). 

412. Senteries. What is the usual spelling ? Stations. Posts, 
guards; a Latinism. 

413. Had need. Had is here an imperfect subjunctive. Had 
need is a translation from the Latin, as if haberet necesse ; thus the 
Vulgate rendering of 1 Sam. 10 : 25 has, ' Non habet rex sponsalia 
necesse.' In Mark 2 : 17 the following noun is in the ablative, 
' Non necesse habent sani medico.' 

418. Look suspense. So Cicero has (Clu. 19 : 54), 'suspensus 
incertusque voltus.' 

420. All sat mute. So II. 7 : 92. It is more instructive to read, 
as a parallel, Livy 26 : 18. Who was finally selected in the latter 
case, and what was the danger to be incurred ? 

422. In other's countenance read. So Shak., Macb. I. v. 63-64 ; 
Hen. VIII. I. i. 125; Troll. IV. v. 239; Rom. I. iii. 81; V. iii. 74; 
Haml. II. i. 90. Cicero (Pis. 1 : 1) calls the countenance 'the silent 
speech of the mind.' For the suggestion to Milton, we must again 
refer to Livy, as above. 

428. Above. Cf. P. L. 1 : 39. What « transcendent glory'? 

429. Unmoved. Cf. P. L. 4 : 822; 8 : 532; P. R. 3 : 386; 4 : 109. 

430. Progeny of Heaven. Cf. Virgil, Eel. 4 : 7. 

431. Demur. Delay. 

432. Long, etc. Mn. 6 : 126-129; Dante, Inf. 34 : 95. 

435. Outrageous. Furious. 

436. Ninefold. Cf. JEn. 6 : 439. Gates . . . adamant. Cf. 
Mn. 6 : 552. 



170 NOTES. 

438. Void profound. Which is the noun ? Cf . vv. 406, 409, 829, 
and Lucr. 1 : 1108, inane profundum. 

439. Unessential. Unsubstantial. 

440. Wide-gaping. Can you connect this "with the etymology 
of Chaos ? 

441. Abortive. In active or causative sense. Cf. P. R. 4 : 411. 
443. Remains him. Cf. P. L. 6 : 38. 

445 ff. There is an interesting parallel in Sarpedon's speech to 
Glaucus, II. 12 : 310 ff. See also P. R.2 : 463-465. It is in the spirit 
of noblesse oblige. 

452. Refusing. If I refuse. 

457. Intend. Endeavor, essay. A Latinism. 

458. What best may ease. Cf. vv. 280-281. 
466. Effect of the pause ? 

482. For neither, etc. Cf. P. R. 1 : 377-382. Would or would 
not the character of Satan have been more interesting had it been 
painted in darker colors ? 

489. While the north wind sleeps. From II. 5 : 524, ' while 
the might of the north wind sleepeth.' For the general simile see 
Spenser, Sonn. 40. 

490. Heaven's cheerful face. From Spenser, F. Q. II. xii. 34. 
Element. Cf. Comus 299. Define. 

491. What is the object of scowls? 
495. Rings. Why singular in form? 

496-505. Would Homer thus have moralized in his own person? 

504. Enow. Properly the plural of enough. 

508. Paramount. A rare use. Generally lord paramount. 

512. Globe. Tacitus, speaking of the German chiefs, says 
(Germ. 13) : ' It is an honor, as well as a source of strength, to be 
thus always surrounded by a large body (globo) of picked youths; 
it is an ornament in peace and a defence in war.' Cf. P. R. 4 : 581. 
Fiery. Why especially applicable to seraphim ? 

513. Horrent. Bristling. Spears are called 'horrent' in ^En. 
10 : 178. 

514. Bid. Present or past? See P. L. 6 : 202. 

515. Trumpet's regal sound. Cf. 1 : 532, 754. 

517. Alchemy. A metallic composition resembling gold ; hence, 
the trumpet made of it. White alchemy, according to Bacon, was 
an alloy of brass or copper with arsenic. 



BOOK II. 171 

518. Scan the line. 

526. Entertain. Beguile. 

528. Sublime. Probably modifies part. For a similar construc- 
tion, see Virgil, Georg. 1 : 404, 'Apparet liquido subllmls in aere 
Nisus.' 

530. Games. Cf. P. L. 4 : 551-552. Are there any notices of 
games in the Iliad or the sEneid? "What Greek author was most 
distinguished for celebrating victories at Olympian games and Pyth- 
ian fields? 

531-532. Shun the goal with rapid wheels. "Why not 'fervid 
wheels,' as in Hor., Od. I. i. 4? 

534. Troubled sky. So 'troubled heaven,' 1 Hen. IV. I. i. 10. 
Armies. Cf. Shak., J. C II. ii. 19-20. 

536. Cf. 1 : 763 ff. 

538. Welkin. Sky. Derived (by irregular vowel-change) from 
OE. wolcen, cloud. 

539. Typhoean. Cf. note on 1 : 199. 

540. Rend up. So in Claudian, Gigantomachia 66-71 : — 

Hie rotas Haemonium praeduris viribus CEten, 
Hie iuga conixus manibus Pangaea coruscat. 
Hunc armat glacialis Atbos, boc Ossa movente 
Tollitur, bic Rhodopen Hebri cum fonte revellit, 
Et socias truncavit aquas summaque levatus 
Rupe Giganteos umeros irrorat Enipeus. 

A more general indication of the same sort is found as early as Plato, 
Soph. 246 A. Ride the air. See v. 663. 

542 ff. Milton has followed Ovid, Met. 9 : 136, 152 ff., 204-218. 
CEchalia. Met. 9 : 136. 

544. Thessalian pines. Met. 9 : 209, ' sternentemque trabes.' 

545. (Eta. Met. 9 : 204. 

546. Euboic sea. Met. 9 : 218. 

547. Sing. Thus Achilles took ' his pleasure of a loud lyre, . . . 
and sang of the glories of heroes' (II. 9 : 186-189). Here, it is to 
be noticed, they celebrate their own exploits. 

550-551. Complain . . . Chance. Bentleysays: 'This is taken 
from the famous distich of Euripides, which Brutus used when 
he slew himself. In some places for /? , force, it is quoted tC^i, 
fortune. Milton has well comprehended both.' 



172 NOTES. 

554. Suspended Hell. Such is the effect of the music of Orpheus 
in Virgil, Georg. 4 : 481-484. Took. Charmed, captivated. Cf . Od. 
Nat. 98; Comus 558. Also a Shakespearian sense, as in W. T. IV. 
iv. 119. 

556. Milton was fond of music. Here he seems, however, to 
assign it a comparatively low rank; is there any evidence as to 
whether this was his settled conviction? Cf. the passages in which 
he uses such words as ' music ' and ' song.' 

559-560. Note the chiastic repetition ; what is its purpose? 

561. Wandering mazes. Cf. v. 148, and P. L. 5 : 622. 

564. Passion. In what sense of the word is it antithetical with 
apathy ? 

565. So Carlyle (Characteristics) : ' In the perfect state, all 
Thought were hut the picture and inspiring symhol of Action ; Phi- 
losophy, except as Poetry and Religion, would have no heing. . . . 
The disease of Metaphysics, accordingly, is a perennial one. In all 
ages, those questions of Death and Immortality, Origin of Evil, Free- 
dom and Necessity, must, under new forms, anew make their ap- 
pearance; ever, from time to time, must the attempt to shape for 
ourselves some Theorem of the Universe he repeated. And ever 
unsuccessfully: for what Theorem of the Infinite can the Finite 
render complete? ' Cf. P. L. 3 : 102-128. 

569. Triple steel. Imitated from Horace, Od. I. iii. 9-10: ' Heart 
of oak and triple hrass (ses triplex) lay around the hreast of him,' 
etc. Cf. Comus 421. 

570. Gross. Large ; cf . P. L.6 : 552. 

575. Four infernal rivers. All these are named in Homer, 
Od. 10 : 51 : ' Therehy into Acheron flows Pyriphlegethon, and Cocy- 
tus, a branch of the water of the Styx.' Dante (Inf. 14 : 115-120) 
arranges them differently : — 

They [tears] in their course 
Thus far precipitated down the rock 
Form Acheron, and Styx, and Phlegethon ; 
Then by this straitened channel passing hence 
Beneath, e'en to the lowest depth of all, 
Form there Cocytus, of whose lake (thyself 
Shall see it) I here give thee no account. 

The characterization of the rivers is derived from their etymology. 
582. Far off. So in Mn. 6 : 705, and in Dante, Inf. 14 : 136. 



BOOK II. 173 

583. Lethe. Plato (Rep. 10 : 621) is perhaps the first to mention 
Lethe. Cf. vv. 607-608. 

584. Labyrinth. Cf. P. L.9: 183. 

587. Continent. Connected or continuous tract of land; an 
obsolete sense. 

589. Dire hail. From Horace, Ocl. I. ii. 1-2. 

590. Gathers heap. Cf. P. L. 12 : 631. 

592. Serboiiian bog - . First mentioned by Herodotus (2:6; 3:5). 

593. Damiata. In Egypt; now Damietta. Mount Casius. 
Between Lower Egypt and Arabia. 

591. Sunk. Diodorus Siculus (1 : 35) mentions this peculiarity. 

595. Landor says: 'The latter part of this verse is redundant, 
and ruinous to the former.' Burns. Cold is said to burn by Virgil 
(Georg. 1 : 93), Ovid (Met. 14 : 763), Tacitus (Ann. 13 : 35), and 
others; the Latin verbs urere, amburere, adurere, and torrere, are all 
used in this way, and so Gr. naleiv and a-rroKateiv. With the line cf. p. 
191, v. 13, and p. 193, v. 79. 

Frore. Frozen, apparently used in the sense of 'freezing.' Frore 
is the old past participle of the verb freeze, by contraction from 
froren. Similarly, forlorn is the past part, of forleese (= modern 
-lose), which occurs yet in Chaucer. The form fro re, without final 
n, is as old as the beginning of the fourteenth century. For frore in 
the sense of ' freezing,' cf. Spenser's expression, ' frozen cold,' F. Q. 
III. viii. 34; in III. viii. 30 and 35, Spenser uses the adjective frory. 

596. Harpy-footed. The Sirens are called ' harpy-legged ' by 
the obscure Greek poet Lycophron. The original Greek conception 
of the Harpies was that of whirlwinds, or spirits of the storm ; thus, 
Od. 1: 241, 'But now the spirits of the storm have swept him 
away inglorious.' Milton may possibly have in mind the Virgilian 
description also, sEn. 3 : 212 ff. Haled. See Lk. 12 : 58; Acts 8 : 3. 
Frequently used by Shakespeare. 

597. Revolutions. Vicissitudes. 

600. ' It appears to me that his imitation of Shakespeare [in this 
line] is feeble.' — Landor. Cf. Meas. for Meas. III. i. 123; and see 
Dante, Inf. 3 : 86; Purg. 3 : 31. Starve. Pinch, nip. So in Shak., 
T. G. IV. iv. 159, ' The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks; ' cf. 
2 Hen. VI. III. i. 343, ' You but warm the starved snake.' From OE. 
steorfan, die, akin to Ger. sterben. 

603. Periods. In its etymological sense; how related to the 



174 NOTES. 

primitive meaning of revolutions, v. 597? Todd says: 'This cir- 
cumstance of the damned's suffering the extremes of heat and cold 
by turns seems to be founded on Job 24 : 19, not as it is in the English 
translation, but in the vulgar Latin version, which Milton often used : 
"Ad nimium calorem transeat ab aquis nivium. Let him pass to 
excessive heat from waters o/snoio." 

604. Lethean sound. Perhaps suggested by the Lethtea stayna 
of Propertius IV (V). vii. 91. 

604-610. 'Milton, like Dante, has mixed the Greek mythology 
with the Oriental. To hinder the damned from tasting a single 
drop of the Lethe they are ferried over. 

Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards 
The ford. 

It is strange that until now they never had explored the banks of the 
other four infernal rivers.' — Landor. 

609. Brink. Surface; like brim in Scott, Marmion 6 : 15: — 

Not lighter does the swallow skim 
Along the smooth lake's level brim. 

610. Fate withstands. Probably a reminiscence of sEn. 4 : 440, 
Fata obstant. 

611. Medusa. Cf. Ovid, Met. 4 : 779-781: 'He [Perseus] arrived 
at the abodes of the Gorgons, and saw everywhere, along the fields 
and the roads, statues of men and wild beasts turned into stone from 
their natural form, at the sight of Medusa.' And so Pindar, Nem. 
10 : 6-7 : ' Long is the tale of Perseus, that telleth of the Gorgon 
Medusa.' 

613. Can you discover any flaw in the following criticism of Lan- 
dor's? — 'No living wight had ever attempted to taste it, nor was it 
this water that fled the lips of Tantalus at any time ; least of all can 
we imagine that it had already fled it.' 

614. Tantalus. Ocl. 11 : 582-587: 'Moreover I beheld Tantalos 
in grievous torment, standing in a mere, and the water came nigh 
unto his chin. And he stood straining as one athirst, but he might 
not attain to the water to drink of it. For often as that old man 
stooped down in his eagerness to drink, so often the water was swal- 
lowed up and it vanished away, and the black earth still showed at 
his feet, for some god parched it evermore.' 



BOOK II. 175 

614-622. Landor says: 'It is impossible to refuse the ear its sat- 
isfaction at [these lines];' hut adds: 'Now who would not rather 
have forfeited an estate than that Milton should have ended so 

deplorably, 

Wliicli God by curse 
Created evil, /or evil only good, 
Where all life dies, death lives. 

How Ovidian! This book would be greatly improved, not merely by 
the rejection of a couple such as these, but by the whole from verse 
647 to verse 1007. The number would still be 705; fewer by only 
sixty-four than the first would be after its reduction.' 

615. Confused. Pronounce. 

616. Pale. Modifies what noun? 

618. Cf. p. 193, v. 69. No rest. Cf. Matt. 12 : 43. 

621. Lowell comments: 'Milton, like other great poets, wrote 
some bad verses, and it is wiser to confess that they are so than to 
conjure up some unimaginable reason why the reader should accept 
them as the better for their badness. Such a bad verse is 

Bocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens and shapes .of death, 

which might be cited to illustrate Pope's 

And ten low words oft creep in one dull line.' 

But Burke says (Sublime and Beautiful, Part 5, Sec. 7) : ' Here is 
displayed the force of union, . . . which yet would lose the greatest 
part of the effect if they were not the 

Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades — of Death. 

This . . . raises a very great degree of the sublime ; and this sublime 
is raised yet higher by what follows, a "universe of death."' In 
Sidney's Arcadia there is a somewhat similar line: — 

Rocks, woods, hills, caves, dales, meads, brooks, answer me. 

626-627. See note on 1 : 540. 

628. Gorgons, and Hydras. Define. Cf. Virgil, jEn. 6 : 287- 

288: — 

Chimsera, 
Gorgones Harpyireque. 



176 NOTES. 



And again 6 : 576-577 : — 

Quinquaginta atris inmanis liiatibus Hydra 
Ssevior iutus habet sedem. 

Chimaeras dire. II. 6 : 180-182 : ' Of divine birth was she and 
not of men, in front a lion, and behind a serpent, and in the midst 
a goat; and she breathed dread fierceness of blazing fire.' 

629 ff . Cf. p. 197, v. 201 ff. 

631. Puts on swift wings. Cf. P.L.5 : 276-277. 

632. Explores . . . flight. Explore hexe means 'try,' a Latin 
meaning. Cicero has the expression, ' explore flight ' (explorare fa- 
gam, Terr. II. v. 17. 44), bnt not in the same sense. 

634. Virgil has (sEn. 5 : 217), 'Skims on (radit, grazes) her liquid 
way, nor so much as moves her swift wings.' Level. Corresponds 
to Gr. tvKijXos, even, steady, applied to wings by Apollonius Rhodius 
2 : 935; similarly, paribus alls, JEn. 4 : 252; 5 : 657 ; 9 : 14. 

635. Fiery concave. Cf. 1 : 298. 

636-643. In his Preface of 1815-1845, Wordsworth writes: 'Im- 
agination, in the sense of the word as giving title to a class of the 
following poems, has no reference to images that are merely a faith- 
ful copy, existing in the mind, of absent external objects; but is a 
word of higher import, denoting operations of the mind upon those 
objects and processes of creation or of composition, governed by 
certain fixed laws. I proceed to illustrate my meaning by instances. 
A parrot hangs from the wires of his cage by his beak or by his claws ; 
or a monkey from the bough of a tree by his paws or his tail. Each 
creature does so literally and actually. In the first Eclogue of Virgil, 
the shepherd, thinking of the time when he is to take leave of his 
farm, thus addresses his goats : — 

Non ego vos posthac viridi projectus in antro 
Dumosa _pe«rfere procul de rupe videbo. 

half way down 

Hangs one who gathers samphire, 

is the well-known expression of Shakespeare, delineating an ordinary 
image upon the cliffs of Dover. In these two instances is a slight 
exertion of the faculty which I denominate imagination, in the use 
of one word : neither the goats nor the samphire-gatherer do literally 
hang, as does the parrot or the monkey ; but, presenting to the senses 



BOOK II. 177 

something of such an appearance, the mind in its activity, for its 
own gratification, contemplates them as hanging.' 

He then quotes our lines, and adds : ' Here is the full strength of 
the imagination involved in the word hangs, and exerted upon the 
whole image : First, the fleet, an aggregate of many ships, is repre- 
sented as one mighty person, whose track, we know and feel, is upon 
the waters; hut, taking advantage of its appearance to the senses, 
the Poet dares to represent it as hanging in the clouds, hoth for the 
gratification of the mind in contemplating the image itself, and in 
reference to the motion and appearance of the sublime objects to 
which it is compared. . . . 

' When the compact fleet, as one person, has been introduced " Sail- 
ing from Bengala," " they," i.e., the " merchants," representing the 
fleet, resolved into a multitude of ships, " ply " their voyage towards 
the extremities of the earth : " So " (referring to the word " As " in the 
commencement) " seemed the flying Fiend ; " the image of his person 
acting to recombine the multitude of ships into one body, — the 
point from which the comparison set out. "So seemed," and to 
whom seemed? To the heavenly Muse who dictates the poem, to 
the eye of the Poet's mind, and to that of the Reader, present at one 
moment in the wide Ethiopian, and the next in the solitudes, then 
first broken in upon, of the infernal regions!' 

Leigh Hunt, 'What is Poetry,' has: 'Shakespeare and Milton 
abound in the very grandest [similes] ; such as Antony's likening his 
changing fortunes to the cloud-rack; Lear's appeal to the old age 
of the heavens; Satan's appearance in the horizon, like a fleet 
"hanging in the clouds;" and the comparisons of him with the 
comet and the eclipse. Nor unworthy of this glorious company, for 
its extraordinary combination of delicacy and vastness, is that en- 
chanting one of Shelley's in the Adonais: — 

Life, like a dome of many-colored glass, 
Stains the white radiance of eternity. 

Cf. Garnett (Milton, pp. 160-161) : ' When such a being voyages 
through space it is no hyperbole to compare him to a whole fleet, 
judiciously shown at such distance as to suppress every minute detail 
that could diminish the grandeur of the image. . . . These similes, 
and an infinity of others, are grander than anything in Homer, who 
would, however, have equaled them with an equal subject. Dante's 



178 NOTES. 

treatment is altogether different; the microscopic intensity of per- 
ception in which he. so far surpasses Homer and Milton affords, in 
our opinion, no adequate compensation for his inferiority in magnifi- 
cence.' 

638. Ternate and Tidore. Two of the Molucca islands in the 
East Indies. Pronounce. 

640. Trading. What figure of speech ? 

641. Ethiopian. Indian Ocean. Cape. Of Good Hope. 

642. Cf. Introduction, p. 32. Ply. Define. Stemming. Define. 
Nightly. By night. The pole. Which? 

645. Thrice threefold. Cf. v. 436. Threefold is the wall in 
Virgil's hell, ;En. 6 : 549, but ninefold the flowing of Styx, 6 : 439. 
Folds. Cf. P. L. 1 : 724. Brass. The wall in Hesiod, Theog. 726, 
is of brass. 

646. Iron. So appeared the walls in Dante, Inf. 8 : 78, and so 
was the gate of Tartarus in II. 8 : 15. Adamantine. Cf. v. 436. So 
sEn. 6 : 552, 'pillars of solid adamant.' 

647. Impaled with circling fire. So in JEn. 6 : 550, ' encircled 
by a rushing river with waves of torrent fire ; ' this is Phlegethon, 
however. Impaled. Cf. P. L. 6 : 553 ; also the only Shakespearian 
sense. 

648. Before the gates. Cf. Mn. 6 : 574-575: * See you the form 
of the watcher that sits in the porch? the shape that guards the 
threshold ? ' 

Garnett says (Milton, p. 155) : — 

' If anything more infatuated can be imagined, it is the simplicity 
of the All-Wise Himself in entrusting the wardership of the gate of 
Hell, and consequently the charge of keeping Satan in, to the beings 
in the universe most interested in letting him out. The sole but 
sufficient excuse is that these faults are inherent in the subject. If 
Milton had not thought that he could justify the ways of Jehovah 
to man he would not have written at all ; common sense on the part 
of the angels would have paralyzed the action of the poem; we 
should, if conscious of our loss, have lamented the irrefragable 
criticism that should have stifled the magnificent allegory of Sin 
and Death.' 

648 ff. 'In the description of Sin and Death, and Satan's inter- 
view with them, there is a wonderful vigor of imagination and of 
thought, with such sonorous verse as Milton alone was capable of 



BOOK II. 179 

composing. But there is also much of what is odious and intolerable. 
The terrific is then sublime, and then only, when it fixes you in the 
midst of all your energies, and not when it weakens, nauseates, and 
repels you.' — Landor. 

651. Ended. Thus Hesiod's Echidna (Theog. 298-299) was half 
a beautiful woman, half a prodigious and dreadful serpent. 

654 ff . Milton seems to have had Ovid in mind {Met. 14 : 60-61, 
64-65) : ' She beholds her loins grow hideous with barking monsters ; 
... as she examines the substance of her thighs, her legs, and her 
feet, she meets with Cerberean jaws in place of those parts.' Cf. 
also Spenser, F.Q. I. i. 15. Cry. Pack. 

655. Cerberean. Who was Cerberus? 

660. Vexed. What is its subject ? Sea. Strait of Messina. 
According to Ovid (Met. 13 : 730) and Virgil (JEn. 3 : 420) Scylla was 
on the Italian side. 

661. Trinacrian. Sicilian; so named from its three promonto- 
ries. Cf. Ovid, Met. 13 : 724, 'With three points this projects into 
the sea.' Hoarse shore is from Statius, Theb. 5 : 291; Trinacrian 
shore from sEn. 1 : 196. 

665. Lapland. Like Thessaly, famous for sorcery. Laboring. 
Suffering (eclipse). ' Laboring moon' is found in Juvenal, 6 : 443. 

666. Eclipses. An obsolete sense. 

666-673. The other . . . had on. Burke says (Sublime and 
Beautiful, Part 2, Sec. 3) : ' In this description all is dark, uncer- 
tain, confused, terrible, and sublime to the last degree.' 

670. As Night. Od. 11 : 606, 'He [Heracles], like black Night.' 

676. So (II. 7 : 213, 215), as Ajax 'went with long strides, . . . 
sore trembling came upon the Trojans.' 

677. Admired. Wondered, marvelled. An archaic sense. 

681. An epic formula ; bo II. 21 :150, ' Who and whence art thou? ' 
etc. Cf. Od. 1 : 170; &n. 8 : 114. 
678-679. 

' God and his Son except, 
Created thing naught valued he. 

This is not the only time when he has used such language, evi- 
dently with no other view than to defend it by his scholarship. But 
no authority can vindicate what is false, and no ingenuity can ex- 
plain what is absurd.' — Landor. But cf. Lowell, Introduction, 
p. 33. 



180 NOTES. 

685. So Spenser, F. Q. III. iv. 15. 

687. Metre ? 

688. Goblin. Scarcely conveys a sufficiently elevated notion 
here ; cf . Comus 436, L'Al. 105. 

689. In the vein of Spenser's apostrophe, F. Q. VI. vi. 25. 
692. Third part. Suggested by Rev. 12 : 4. 

696. Spirits of Heaven. Cf . v. 687. 

697. Hell-doomed. Cf. v. 687. 

700. To thy speed add wings. Suggested hy JEn. 8:223: 
' pedihus timor addidit alas,' ' fear added wings to his feet.' 

701. "Whip of scorpions. Cf. 1 Kings 12 : 11. 

702. This dart. Cf. v. 672. 

704. Grisly. Define. Cf. 1 : 670. 

706. Deform. Cf. P. L. 11 : 494. Browning uses the word in 
Fifine at the Fair. 

707. Incensed. Two meanings here ? 

708. Comet. Cf. Mn. 10:270-273: 'The crest of the prince's 
helmet blazes, and a flame seems to pour forth from the plume at its 
top, and the golden boss vomits forth mighty fires, like as when some- 
times on a clear night blood-red comets blush with baleful light.' 

709. Ophiuchns. A constellation forty degrees long. 

710. Hair. What is the etymology of 'comet'? Cf. Shak., 
1 Hen. VI. I. i. 1-3: — 

Comets, importing change of time and states, 
Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky. 

712. Fatal. Cf. v. 786. What difference between the meaning 
here and in v. 104? 

713. Intend. For this verb with an accusative, see v. 457 ; P. L. 
5 : 867 ; 10 : 58. 

714. Clouds. Thus Amphiarus is called by Pindar (Nem. 10 : 12), 
' the storm-cloud of war.' In Boiardo's Orlando Innamorato (1 : 16; 
cf. 2 : 4) Milton is anticipated in the elaboration of this simile. 

715. Heaven's artillery. A Shakespearian phrase, T. Shr. I. ii. 
205. Fraught. From what infinitive ? 

Caspian. Cf. Horace, Od. II. ix. 1-3; 'Not for ever do showers 
pour from the clouds upon the squalid plains, or fitful blasts trouble 
the Caspian sea unceasingly.' 

722. So great a foe. See 1 Cor. 15 : 26 ; Heb. 2 : 14. 



BOOK II. 181 

722-724. And now . . . had not. Cf. II. 7 : 273-274: ' And now 
had they been smiting hand to hand with swords, hut that,' etc. 

724. Snaky. Cf. v. 651. 

729. Bend. Direct, aim. How does the word come to have this 
meaning? Cf. Ps. 11 : 2; P. L.2: 923; P. R. 4 : 424. 

731. Laughs. Cf. Ps. 2 : 4. 

735. Pest. Used like the Lat. pestis. 

736. These. What? 

741. Double-formed. So Scylla (pluralized) is called (biformis) 
in JEn. 6 : 286. 

743. Phantasm. Cf. v. 667. 

745. Thau. What part of speech here? 

748. Foul . . . fair. Thus antithetically employed by Shak.> 
Macb. I. i. 11. 

752 ff. Cf. Homer's Hymn to Pallas (Chapman's trans.) : — 

His [Zeus's] unbounded brows 
Could not contain lier ; such impetuous tbroes 
Her birth gave way to, that abroad she flew, 
And stood, in gold armed, in her Father's view, 
Shaking her sharp lance. All Olympus shook 
So terribly beneath her, that it took 
Up in amazes all the Deities there. 

759. Scan the line. 

761. Familiar grown. Cf. Pope, Essay on Man 2 ■ 217-220. 

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien 
As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ; 
Yet, seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 

768. Fields. Battles. How does the word come to this mean- 
ing ? How is Ger. Kampf related to Lat. campus? 

771. Empyrean. Define. 

772. Pitch. Cf. P. L. 8 : 198; 11 : 693; Sams. Agon. 169. 

786. Brandishing his fatal dart. From JEn. 12 : 919, ' Telum 
fatale coruscat.' 

787. Death. Cf . James 1 : 15 : ' Sin, when it is finished, bringeth 
forth death.' 

789. So Virgil, jEn. 2 : 53: 'The caverns sounded hollow and 



182 NOTES. 

uttered a groan.' Death. The repetition as in Virgil, Georg. 4 : 
525-527 : ' The voice and chilled tongue of themselves called " Eu- 
rydice, ah, hapless Eurydice! " as the spirit ebbed away; all along 
the stream the banks replied "Eurydice!"' 

798. List. Cf. v. 656. 

800-803. Lowell criticizes the sibilancy of these lines. In what 
words does it occur ? 

808. Bane. Define. 

809. Fate. Newton observes : ' Milton with great propriety 
makes the fallen Angels, and Sin here, attribute events to Fate, 
without any mention of the Supreme Being.' Where has this been 
done before in the poem ? 

810 ff. Cf. Od. 12 : 117-120: 'Wilt thou not yield thee even to 
the deathless gods ? As for her [Scylla], she is no mortal, but an 
immortal plague, dread, grievous, and fierce, and not to be fought 
with; and against her there is no defence.' 

813. Heavenly. What part of speech ? Cf. P.L.8: 217. From 
OE. heofenlice, while in the more usual sense it is from heofenlic. 

814. Save. What part of speech ? Does the use of nisi, in such 
a sentence as the following, throw any light upon it ? ' Dicere nemo 
potest, nisi qui prudenter intellegit.' 

815. Lore. Define. 

816. Cf. v. 745. Smooth. What part of speech ? 
823. House of pain. So Spenser, F. Q. I. v. 34. 

826. Go. Note the idiom, ' to go an errand.' 

827. Uncouth. Cf. note on v. 407. 

829. Void immense. Cf. v. 438. 

830. Wandering. Cf. v. 404. 

832. Place of bliss. Cf. v. 347. 

833. Purlieus. Define. 

834. Race. Cf. 1 : 653. 

842. Buxom air. A Spenserian phrase, F. Q. I. xi. 37, like 
Horace's ceclentem aera, Sat. II. ii. 13. Hence, buxom = unresisting, 
from the sense ' flexible,' ' pliant.' The word is first found in Middle 
English, ca. 1175, in the sentence, ' Beo biihsum toward Gode,' 
where biihsum means 'pliant,' ' obedient.' The word has the same 
root as OE. biigan, to bow, bend. 

846. Ghastly smile. So Ajax, It. 7 : 212, rose up, ' with a smile 
on his grim face ; ' Inf. 5:4: — 



BOOK II. 183 

There Minos stands 
Grinning with ghastly feature. 

Drummoiid of Hawthornden (lived when?), in a madrigal, calls 
Death, 'grim grinning king.' Spenser has 'grinning griesly' (F. Q. 
V. xii. 16), like Statius' (Theb. 8 : 582) 'formidable ridens.' In the 
Odyssey (20 : 347) the wooers ' were laughing with alien lips ' (cf . 
Hor., Sat. II. iii. 72; Oct. III. xi. 21). See also Shak., Rich. II. III. 
ii. 162-163. 

817. His famine. Cf. Hab. 2:5; Prov. 30 : 15, 16; and P. L 
10 : 601, 991. 

849. Bespake. Cf. P. L. 4 : 1005. 

850. Infernal pit. Cf. 1 : 657. 

856 ff. Cf. Garnett's remarks in note on v. 648. 

858. Gloom. Tartarus is 'black' (.En. 6 : 134), 'darkly deep' 
(Prom. Bound 219), ' murky ' (ib. 1050), etc. Tartarus. II. 8 : 13-14, 
'misty Tartarus, where is the deepest gulf beneath the earth;' 
Plato, Gorgias 523, ' he who has lived unjustly and impiously shall 
go to the house of vengeance and punishment, which is called 
Tartarus.' 

860. Heavenly-born. Cf. v. 749 ff. 

868. The gods who live at ease. So exactly in II. 6 : 138 ; Od. 
4 : 805, etc. 

869. Right. Cf. P. L. 3 : 62-64. 

872. All our woe. Cf . 1 : 3. 

873. Would the rhythm be improved by making rolling the 
second word in the line ? 

876-882. See note on 1 : 540. 
877. Wards. Define. 
879 ff. Cf. p. 198, v. 209. 

879-882. A remarkable instance of imitative sound (onomato- 
poeia), modelled after /En. 6 : 573-574 (cf. 1 : 449) : — 

Turn demum horrisono stridentes cardine sacra? 
Panduntur porta?. 

Contrast with this P. L. 7 : 205-207. 

883. Erebus. Suggested by Virgil, Georg. 4 : 471, ' Stirred from 
the lowest abodes of Erebus.' 

885. Wings. Cf. P. R. 3 : 309; 4 : 06. 



18-4 NOTES. 

885-886. Bannered . . . ensigns. Can any explanation be 
given of this apparent redundancy? 
889. Redounding. Define. 
891. Hoary Deep. See Job 41 : 32. 

894. Night. According to Hesiod (Theog. 123), 'black Night 
was bom of Chaos and Erebus.' According to the Orphic Hymn to 
Night, she was mother of gods and men, and the original of all things 

(ye'eecri? ndvTioi'}, 

895. Chaos. Cf. F. Q. III. vi. 36. 

896. Anarchy. Ovid (Met. 1 : 7-9) : ' Chaos, a rude and undi- 
gested mass, . . . the discordant atoms of things not harmonizing.' 
So Lucretius (5 : 439-445) : ' A strange, stormy crisis and medley, 
gathered together out of first-beginnings of every kind, whose state 
of discord, joining battle, disordered their interspaces, . . . because 
by reason of their unlike forms and varied shapes, they could not all 
remain thus joined together, nor fall into mutually harmonious mo- 
tions.' Cf. P. L. 10 : 293. 

898. Hot, Cold, 3Ioist, and Dry. Ovid (Met. 1 : 18-19) : ' And 
one was ever obstructing the other; because in the same body the 
cold was striving with the hot, the moist with the dry.' 

900. Embryon. Immature, undeveloped. Cf. P. L.l : 277. 

903. Sands. Cf . note on 1 : 302. 

904. Barca and Cyrene were in Northern Africa. 

905. Warring winds. Horace's 'ventos deprceliantes ' (Od. I. 
ix. 10-11). So Ovid (Met. 11 : 491) says, 'The fierce winds wage war 
on every side; ' and Virgil (^En. 2 : 416), 'Opposing winds meet in 
conflict.' 

907. He. Who ? 

908. Like some modern umpires ? 

910. Chance. Cf. v. 233. 

911. The thought is an old one. It is ascribed to Xenophanes 
and Euripides, among the Greeks. Besides Ennius, Lucretius has it 
(5:260):- 

/ Omniparens, eadera rerum commune sepulchruru. 

So Shakespeare, Rom. II. iii. 9-10 (cf. Per. II. iii. 45): — 

The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb ; 
What is her burying grave, that is her womb. 



book II. 185 

917. Into this wild Abyss. Observe that we have already had 
these words, v. 910. The poet has lingered and ' looked a while,' like 
his Satan. 

919. Frith. Define. 

920. Pealed. Is this verb usually transitive ? 

922. Great things with small. From Virgil (Eel. 1 : 24) : ' Par- 
vis componere magna.' Bellona. Goddess of war. 

927. Sail-broad. Lucretius, speaking of birds, says (6 : 743), 
'They forget to row with their wings, they drop their sails. 9 Cf. 
F. Q. I. xi. 10. The attribution of sail-broad wings to Satan is from 
the Italian of Marino. Vans. Cf. P. R. 4 : 583. The word is from 
the Italian, where it is in poetical use. 

930. Cloudy chair. Cf. Comus 134. Chair. Chariot. 

932. Note the alliteration. 

934. Fathom. What other words of this kind may lack the 
plural sign ? 

937. Nitre. Cf. P. L. 4 : 815. 

939. Syrtis. The ancients so called two different gulfs off the 
north coast of Africa. Milton's characterization seems to be from 
Lucan, Phars. 9 : 304. Cf. Virgil's description (.En. 1 : 110-112) : 
' Three ships the East wind forces into the shallows and quicksands 
[Syrtis], . . . and shuts them in with a bank of sand.' 

941. Half. Cf. F. Q. I. xi. 8. 

942. Both oar and sail. Might and main. A Latin proverbial 
expression; so in Cic, Tusc. III. xi. 25. 

943. Griffin. Conceived of as a lion, with the head and wings of 
an eagle. 

945. Arimaspian. Cf. Herodotus 3 : 116: " Toward the north of 
Europe there is evidently a very great quantity of gold, but how pro- 
cured I am unable to say with certainty, though it is said that the 
Arimaspians, a one-eyed people, steal it from the griffins." 

948-950. Note the confused and disorderly manner in which 
these disconnected particulars are set forth. For the name of this 
rhetorical figure see De Mille's Elements of Rhetoric, § 151, and 
cf. § 221. 

953. Hollow dark. Cf. Mn. 2 : 760, cava umbra. 

954. Plies. Cf. v. 642. 

960. Pavilion. Cf. 2 Sam. 22 : 12; Ps. 18 : 11. 

962. Sable-vested Night. From Euripides, Ion 1150, iitMnnntXos 



186 NOTES. 

N(>f. Eldest. Because Chaos, of which she was horn, could hardly 
be described as a (definite) thing ? 

964. Orcus. From Virgil, Georg. 1 : 277, ' pallidus Orcus.' 
Ades. Hades. Hesiod, Theog. 455: 'Mighty Hades, who inhabits 
the abode beneath the earth.' Name. ' By a usage chiefly Hebra- 
istic, the name is used for everything which the name covers.' 

965. Demogorgon. Cf. F. Q. IV. ii. 47. 6-9: — 

Downe in tlie bottome of the deepe Abysse, 
"Where Demogorgon in dull darknesse pent 
Farre from the view of Gods and heavens bliss, 
The hideous Chaos keepes, their dreadful dwelling is. 

Shelley thus describes Demogorgon (Prom. Unbound 2:4): — 

I see a mighty darkness 
Filling the seat of power, and rays of gloom 
Dart round, as light from the meridian sun, 
Ungazed upon and shapeless ; neither limb 
Nor form, nor outline ; yet we feel it is 
A living spirit. 

Ben Jonson speaks of ' Boccace his Demogorgon' (Alchemist 2 : 1), 
but the name is much earlier. 

965 ff. Thus in .En. 6 : 274-280 we have Grief, Cares, Diseases, 
Age, Fear, Hunger, Want, Death, Toil, Sleep, Evil Delights, War, 
and Discord. Lowell says of Wordsworth (Essay on Dry den) : ' He 
indulged in that alphabetical personification which enlivens all such 
words as Hunger, Solitude, Freedom, by the easy magic of an initial 
capital.' But it is not easy to distinguish between such personifica- 
tions and those of Orcus and Hades, Night and Chaos. Anything 
capable of being generalized, and which has a constant and profound 
influence on human life and destiny, is susceptible of personification ; 
and the personification is most conveniently denoted by the use of 
a capital. On the other hand, there is no doubt that this liberty has 
often been abused by poets. 

973. Wandering. Transitive, as in P. L. 4 : 234; 11 : 779; P. R. 
1 : 354 ; 2 : 246 ; 4 : 600. So err, P. L. 10 : 266. 

977. Confine with. Border upon. Some other place. Cf. v. 
345. 

979. Thither. This adverb is strictly used only with verbs of 
motion. By using it with arrive the latter word is made to express 



BOOK II. 187 

both motion and the following state of rest. This is an imitation of 
a Latinism: hue ades, Virg. Eel. 2 : 45; Cf. Hor. Sat. II. iii. 80. 

980. Profound. A noun, like Lat. prqfundum. 

982. Behoof. Define. Lost. Adjective. 

985. Journey. Almost in the sense of 'mission,' 'undertaking.' 

987. Yours . . . mine. A similar antithesis in Mn. 1 : 76-77. 

988. Anarch. Who? The word was first used in English by- 
Milton. 

989. Incomposed. Discomposed ; Lat. ineompositus. 

990. I know thee . . . who thou art. Mk. 1 : 24 ; Lk. 4 : 34. 
994. Frighted Deep. Virgil (.En. 6 : 800) speaks of the ' af- 
frighted mouths (trepida ostia) of Nile.' 

997. Millions. What reason is there for thinking this hyper- 
bolical ? 

999. Can. What verb is to be supplied ? 
1001. Intestine broils. Cf. P. L. 6 : 259. 

1005. Golden chain. The ultimate source of the phrase is II. 8 : 
19-22, where Zeus exclaims, ' Fasten ye a rope of gold from heaven, 
and all ye gods lay hold thereof and all goddesses ; yet could ye not 
drag from heaven to earth Zeus.' 

Of the Homeric figure various allegorical interpretations have 
been made. Thus Plato, Thesetetus 153 D : ' . . . The golden chain 
in Homer, by which he meant the sun, thus indicating that while 
the sun and the heavens go round, all things human and divine are 
and are preserved, but if the sun were to be arrested in his course, 
then all things would be destroyed, and, as the saying is, Chaos 
would come again.' Macrobius (on the Somnium Scipionis 1 : 14) 
has another interpretation, which Ben Jonson follows in his Hy- 
mensei, and again in his Epode (Forest 11). I quote from the latter : — 

Now, true Love 

No such effects doth prove ; 
That is an essence far more gentle, fine ; 

Pui'e, perfect, nay divine ; 
It is a golden chain let down from heaven 

Whose links are bright and even, 
That falls like sleep on lovers, and combines 

The soft and sweetest minds 
In equal knots. 

See also Tennyson, Morte d' Arthur 255. 



188 NOTES 

1008-1009. "What is the mistake made by Landor in the follow- 
ing? — ' [These verses] could be spared. Satan but little encouraged 
his followers by reminding them that, if they took the course he 
pointed out, they were 

So much the nearer danger, 

nor was it necessary to remind them of the obvious fact by saying, 

Havoc, and spoil, and ruin are ray gain.' 

1011. Sea. Cf. vv. 939, 961. 

1015. Fighting elements. Cf. v. 896 ff. " 

1018. Justling rocks. Apollonius Rhodius tells the story of the 
Argonauts, or voyagers in the ship Argo. The prophet Phineus, 
foretelling what should befall them, remarks {Arg. 2 : 286 ff .) : ' First 
of all . . . ye shall see the two Cyanean rocks [known as the Sym- 
plegades] at the place where two seas meet. Through these, I trow, 
none can win a passage. For they are not fixed on foundations be- 
low, but oft they clash together upon each other.' He instructs 
them how to escape the danger, and they follow his directions: ' On 
they went in grievous fear, and already on their ears the thud of 
clashing rocks smote unceasingly, and the dripping cliffs roared. . . . 
The eddying current stayed the ship in the midst of " the Clashers," 
and they quaked on either side, and thundered, and the ship-timbers 
throbbed. Then did Athene with her left hand hold the stubborn 
rock apart, while with her right she thrust them through upon their 
course ; and the ship shot through the air like a winged arrow. Yet 
the rocks, ceaselessly dashing together, crushed off, in passing, the 
tip of the carved stern.' 

1019. Ulysses. As described in the Odyssey, Bk. 12. 

1020. Whirlpool. Scylla is usually described as a rock, but in 
Ovid, Met. 14 : 51, Scylla, before her transformation into a rock, was 
wont to retreat to a ' small whirlpool ' (parvus gurges), in which she 
was afterward fixed. 

1021-1022. Purpose of the repetition ? 
1024. Amain. Cf. v. 165. 

1028. Bridge. Cf . P. L. 10 : 282-305, especially 293-305. 

1029. Orb. Cf. the ' wall immovable ' of P. LAO: 302-303, which 
may perhaps mean the Empyrean Heaven, motionless while all its 



BOOK II. 189 

inner concentric spheres, at whose centre is the earth, are revolving. 
For this theory of the universe see Longfellow's translation of the 
Divine Comedy, note on Paradiso 1:1. Orb might mean orbit, as 
sometimes in Latin; or, conceiving the earth, with the ancients, 
to be a flat disk, it might mean the rim of this disk. 

1033. God and good Angels. So in Shak. Rich. III. v. 3. 

1034. Sacred. Sophocles (Electra 86) calls light 'holy' (ipaos 
a-yyov). But see particularly P. L. 3 : 1-6. 

Note the exceeding beauty of this passage to the end. 

1035. Walls. See v. 343. 

1037. Dawn. Cf. P. L. 3 : 499-500. 

1041. That. So that. 

1043. Vessel. Cf . Browning, Flight of the Duchess : 

And at last, as its haven some buffeted ship sees, 
(Come all the way from the north-parts with sperm oil) 
I hope to get safely out of the turmoil. 

Holds. Makes for. A Latinism ; so portum tenet, sEn. 1 : 400. 
Some translate the Latin verb by ' reach,' in such phrases as this; but 
the context seems to favor the other meaning here. 

1046. Weighs. Balances; see poise, v. 906. 

1047. Empyreal Heaven. Cf. P. L. 3 : 56-62. 
1049-1050. Cf. P. L. 3 : 504-509. 

1050. Sapphire. See Isa. 54:11; Rev. 21:19. Native seat. 
Cf. P. L. 1 : 85-87. 

1052. Pendent world. Used by Shakespeare (Meas. III. i. 126) 
but perhaps originally from Ovid, Met. 1 : 12 ' nee circumf uso pende- 
bat in aere tellus ponderibus librata suis' (the earth did not as yet 
hang in the surrounding air, balanced by its own weight) ; cf. P. L. 
7 : 242. Milton, in adopting the phrase, seems to have construed 
pendent more liberally, in connection with chain. Cf. Garnett, Mil- 
ton, p. 158: 'This pendant world, observe, is not the earth, as Addison 
understood it, but the entire sidereal universe, depicted not as the 
infinity we now know it to be, but as a definite object, so insulated in 
the vastness of space as to be perceptible to the distant Fiend as a 
minute star, and no larger in comparison with the courts of Heaven 
— themselves not wholly seen — than such a twinkler matched with 
the full-orbed moon. Such a representation, if it diminishes the 
grandeur of the universe accessible to sense, exalts that of the super- 



190 NOTES. 

sensual and extramundane regions where the action takes its "birth, 
and where Milton's gigantic imagination is most perfectly at home.' 

1052. Star. Perhaps suggested by Hor., Epoch 15 : 1-2, 'The 
moon was shining amid the lesser stars ; ' perhaps rather by Hor., Od. 
I. xii. 46-48 : ' Shines among all the Julian star, like the moon among 
the lesser fires.' 

1054. Revenge. Earlier occurrences of this word in P. L.? 
What ground for revenge had Satan ? 

1055. Cursed hour. Why? 



APPENDIX. 



Extracts from the Genesis of the Pseudo-C.edmon, Morley's 
Translation. 

(W. 20-45, 78-111, 246-260, 299-438, 442-457.) 

Even there 
Pain came to them, Envy and Pride began 
There first to weave ill counsel and to stir 
The minds of angels. Then, athirst for strife, 
He said that northward he would own in Heaven 5 

A home and a high throne. Then God was wroth, 
And for the host He had made glorious, 
For those pledge-breakers, our souls' guardians, 
The Lord made anguish a reward, a home 
In banishment, hell-groans, hard pain, and bade 10 

That torture-house abide their joyless fall. 
When with eternal night and sulphur pains, 
Fulness of fire, dread cold, reek and red flames, 
He knew it filled, then through that hopeless home 
He bade the woful horror to increase. 15 



But after as before was peace in Heaven, 
Fair rule of love ; dear unto all the Lord 
Of Lords, the King of Hosts, to all His own, 
And glories of the good who possessed joy 
In Heaven the Almighty Father still increased. 20 

191 



192 APPENDIX. 

Then peace was among dwellers in the sky, 

Blaming and lawless malice were gone out, 

And angels feared no more, since plotting foes 

Who cast off Heaven were bereft of light. 

Their glory-seats behind them in God's realm, 25 

Enlarged with gifts, stood happy, bright with bloom, 

But ownerless since the curst spirits went 

Wretched to exile within bars of Hell. 

Then thought within His mind the Lord of Hosts 

How He again might fix within His rule 30 

The great creation, thrones of heavenly light 

High in the Heavens for a better band, 

Since the proud scathers had relinquished them. 

The holy God, therefore, in His great might 

Willed that there should be set beneath Heaven's span 35 

Earth, firmament, wide waves, created world, 

Replacing foes cast headlong from their home. 

Here yet was naught save darkness of the cave, 

The broad abyss, whereon the steadfast King 

Looked with His eyes and saw that space of gloom, 40 

Saw the dark cloud lower in lasting night, 

Was deep and dim, vain, useless, strange to God, 

Black under Heaven, wan, waste, till through His word 

The King of Glory had created life. 



The Almighty had disposed ten angel-tribes, 45 

The holy Father by His strength of hand, 

That they whom He well trusted should serve Him 

And work His will. For that the holy God 

Gave intellect, and shaped them with His hands. 

In happiness He placed them, and to one 50 

He added prevalence and might of thought, 



APPENDIX. 193 

Sway over much, next highest to Himself 

In Heaven's realm. Him He had wrought so bright 

That pure as starlight was in Heaven the form 

Which God the Lord of Hosts had given him. 55 

Praise to the Lord his work, and cherishing 

Of heavenly joy, and thankfulness to God 

For his share of that gift of light, which then 

Had long been his. But he perverted it, 

Against Heaven's highest Lord he lifted war, 60 

Against the Most High in*His sanctuary. 

Then was the Mighty wroth, Heaven's highest Lord 

Cast him from his high seat, for he had brought 

His Master's hate on him. His favor lost, 

The Good was angered against him, and he 65 

Must therefore seek the depth of Hell's fierce pains, 

Because he strove against Heaven's highest Lord, 

Who shook him from His favor, cast him down 

To the deep dales of Hell, where he became 

Devil. The Fiend with all his comrades fell 70 

From Heaven, angels, for three nights and days, 

From Heaven to Hell, where the Lord changed them all 

To devils, because they His Deed and Word 

Refused to worship. Therefore in worse light 

Under the earth beneath, Almighty God 75 

Had placed them triumphless in the swart Hell. 

There evening, immeasurably long, 

Brings to each fiend renewal of the fire ; 

Then comes, at dawn, the east wind keen with frost ; 

Its dart, or fire continual, torment sharp, 80 

The punishment wrought for them, they must bear. 

Their world was changed, and those first times filled Hell 



194 APPENDIX. 

With the detriers. Still the angels held, 

They who fulfilled God's pleasure, Heaven's heights ; 

Those others, hostile, who such strife had raised 85 

Against their Lord, lie in the fire, bear pangs, 

Fierce burning heat in midst of Hell, broad flames, 

Fire and therewith also the bitter reek 

Of smoke and darkness ; for they paid no heed 

To service of their God ; their wantonness 

Of angel's pride deceived them, who refused 

To worship the Almighty Word. Their pain 

Was great. Then were they fallen to the depth 

Of fire in the hot Hell for their loose thought 

And pride unmeasured, sought another land 95 

That was without light and was full of flame, 

Terror immense of fire. Then the fiends felt 

That they unnumbered pains had in return, 

Through might of God, for their great violence, 

But most for pride. Then spoke the haughty king, 100 

Once brightest among angels, in the heavens 

Whitest, and to his Master dear, beloved 

Of God, until they lightly went astray, 

And for that madness the Almighty God 

Was wroth with him, and into ruin cast 105 

Him down to his new bed, and shaped him then 

A name, said that the highest should be called 

Satan thenceforth, and o'er Hell's swart abyss 

Bade him have rule and avoid strife with God. 

Satan discoursed, he who henceforth ruled Hell no 

Spake sorrowing. 

God's angel erst, he had shone white in Heaven, 

Till his soul urged, and most of all its pride, 

That of the Lord of Hosts he should no more 



APPENDIX. 195 

Bend to the word. About his heart his soul 115 

Tumultuously heaved, hot pains of wrath 

Without him. 

Then said he, < Most unlike this narrow place 

To that which once we knew, high in Heaven's realm, 

Which my Lord gave me, though therein no more 120 

For the Almighty we hold royalties. 

Yet right hath He not done in striking us 

Down to the fiery bottom of hot Hell, 

Banished from Heaven's kingdom with decree 

That He will set in it the race of Man. 125 

Worst of my sorrows this, that, wrought of earth, 

Adam shall sit in bliss on my strong throne, 

Whilst we these pangs endure, this grief in Hell. 

Woe ! Woe ! had I the power of my hands, 

And for a season, for one winter's space, 130 

Might be without ; then with this host I — 

But iron binds me round ; this coil of chains 

Rides me ; I rule no more ; close bonds of Hell 

Hem me their prisoner. Above, below, 

Here is vast fire, and never have I seen 

More loathly landscape ; never fade the flames 

Hot over Hell. Rings clasp me, smooth hard bands 

Mar motion, stay my wandering, feet bound, 

Hands fastened, and the ways of these Hell-gates 

Accurst so that I cannot free my limbs ; 

Great lattice bars, hard iron hammered hot, 

Lie round me, wherewith God hath bound me down 

Fast by the neck. 

So know I that He knew 
My mind, and that the Lord of Hosts perceived 
That if between us two by Adam came 145 



135 



140 



196 APPENDIX. 

Evil towards that royalty of Heaven, 

I having power of my hands — 

But now we suffer throes in Hell, gloom, heat, 

Grim, bottomless ; us God Himself hath swept 

Into these mists of darkness, wherefore sin 150 

Can He not lay against us that we planned 

Evil against Him in the land. Of light 

He hath shorn us, cast us into utmost pain. 

May we not then plan vengeance, pay Him back 

With any hurt, since shorn by Him of light ? 155 

Now He hath set the bounds of a mid-earth 

Where after His own image He hath wrought 

Man, by whom He will people once again 

Heaven's kingdom with pure souls. Therefore intent 

Must be our thought that, if we ever may, 160 

On Adam and his offspring we may wreak 

Kevenge, and, if we can devise a way, 

Pervert His will. I trust no more the light 

Which he thinks long to enjoy with angel power. 

Bliss we obtain no more, nor can attain 165 

To weaken God's strong will ; but let us now 

Turn from the race of Man that heavenly realm 

Which may no more be ours, contrive that they 

Forfeit His favor, undo what His Word 

Ordained : then, wroth of mind, He from His grace 170 

Will cast them, then shall they too seek this Hell 

And these grim depths. Then may we for ourselves 

Have them in this strong durance, sons of men 

For servants. Of the warfare let us now 

Begin to take thought. If of old I gave 175 

To any thane, while we in that good realm 

Sat happy and had power of our thrones, 



APPENDIX. 197 

Gifts of a Prince, then at no dearer time 

Could he reward my gift, if any now 

Among my followers would be my friend, tso 

That he might pass forth upward from these bounds, 

Had power with him that, winged, he might fly, 

Borne on the clouds, to where stand Adam and Eve 

Wrought on earth's kingdom, girt with happiness, 

While we are cast down into this deep dale. 185 

Now these are worthier to the Lord, may own 

The blessing rightly ours in Heaven's realm, 

This the design apportioned to mankind. 

Sore is my mind and rue is in my thought 

That ever henceforth they should possess Heaven. 190 

H ever any of you in any way 

May turn them from the teaching of God's word 

They shall be evil to Him, and if they 

Break His commandment, then will He be wroth 

Against them, then will be withdrawn from them 195 

Their happiness, and punishment prepared, 

Some grievous share of harm. Think all of this, 

How to deceive them. In these fetters then 

I can take rest, if they that kingdom lose. 

He who shall do this hath prompt recompense 200 

Henceforth for ever of what may be won 

Of gain within these fires. I let him sit 

Beside myself.' 



Then God's antagonist arrayed himself 

Swift in rich arms. He had a guileful mind. 205 

The hero set the helmet on his head 

And bound it fast, fixed it with clasps. He knew 

Many a speech deceitful, turned him thence, 



198 APPENDIX. 

Hardy of mind, departed through Hell's doors, 

Striking the flames in two with a fiend's power; 210 

Would secretly deceive with wicked deed 

Men, the Lord's subjects, that misled, forlorn, 

To God they became evil. So he fared, 

Through his fiend's power, till on earth he found 

Adam, God's handiwork, with him his wife, 215 

The fairest woman. 



INDEX OF AUTHORS 



Quoted or Referred to. 



(The numbers refer to pages. Biblical references are not listed.) 



Abbott, 134, 135, 142, 158. 
Addison, 141, 147, 152, 156. 
JEschylus, 27, 122, 125, 126, 128, 130, 

158, 162, 164, 166, 183. 
Ammianus Marcellinus, 152-153. 
Apollodorus, 141. 
Apollonius Rhodius, 170, 188. 
Aquinas, 127. 

Ariosto, 12, 27, 121, 131, 148. 
Aristophanes, 163. 
Aristotle, 12, 16, 17. 
Arnold, 36-40, 125-126, 150-151. 

Bacon, 42, 127. 
Bentley, 153, 171. 
Beowulf, 144. 
Boiardo, 180. 
Bright, John, 135. 
Browne, Sir Thomas, 33. 
Browne, William, 145. 
Browning, 180, 189. 
Burke, 148-150, 162, 175, 179. 
Byron, 127. 

Csedmon (Pseudo-), 122, 123, 124, 125, 
132, 152, 167, 168, 173, 175, 176, 183, 
191-198. 

Cresar, 134, 153. 

Callimachus, 13. 



Carlyle, 172. 

Gary, 154. 

Castelvetro, 17. 

Catullus, 133, 136, 138. 

Chaucer, 123, 138, 173. 

Cicero, 16, 27, 152, 154, 167, 169, 176, 

185, 187. 
Claudian, 171. 
Coleridge, 148. 
Coverdale, 122. 
Cowley, 136. 
Cowper, 36. 

Dante, 8, 27, 36, 123, 126, 150, 152, 154, 
169, 172, 173, 174, 177, 178, 182, 189. 

Be Mille, 185. 

Demosthenes, 16, 27. 

Diodorus Siculus, 173. 

Dionysius the Areopagite (Pseudo-), 
127, 157. 

Drummond, 183. 

Dryden, 119. 

Du Bartas, 28. 

Emerson, R. W., 40-42. 
Emerson, O. F., 128. 
Ennius, 184. 

Euripides, 13, 16, 27, 184, 185. 
Fairfax, 120, 125, 143, 152, 158. 



199 



200 



IXDEX OF AUTHORS. 



Garnett, 131-132, 135, 147, 177, 178, 

183, 189. 
Gayley, 140. 
Gildersleeve, 145. 
Goethe, 38. 
Gray, 159. 

Gregory (the Great), 152. 
Grotius, 5, 134. 

Hakluyt, 131. 

Hermogenes, 16. 

Herodotus, 156, 173, 185. 

Hesiod, 142, 144, 178, 179, 184, 186. 

Homer, 9, 12, 27, 34-36, 120, 121, 124, 
125, 126, 128, 129, 130, 131, 133, 135, 
136, 137, 139, 142, 146, 147, 150, 152, 
154, 155, 156, 157, 159, 161, 163, 167, 
169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 176, 177, 
178, 179, 181, 182, 183, 187, 188. 

Horace, 17, 27, 128, 133, 134, 137, 154, 
159, 161, 164, 166, 171, 172, 173, 180, 
182, 183, 184, 187, 190. 

Hunt, Leigh, 144, 177. 

Jebb, 146-147. 

Jerome, 140, 168. 

Jonson, 133, 153, 160, 186, 187. 

Juvenal, 27, 168, 179. 

Kimchi, 139. 

Landor, 34-36, 121, 122, 124, 129, 138, 
145, 146, 147, 148, 150, 151, 152, 153, 
154, 157, 159, 161, 164, 166, 167, 168, 
173, 174, 175, 178-179, 188. 

Langland, 143. 

Leopardi, 38. 

Lewes, 148-150. 

Livy, 128, 138, 142, 153, 165, 169. 

Longfellow, 30, 133, 137, 148, 189. 

Longinus, 16. 

Lovelace, 134. 

Lowell, 30-34, 125, 129, 131, 134, 137, 
164, 175, 179, 1S2, 186. 



Lucan, 123, 144, 185. 

Lucretius, 27, 132, 169, 170, 184, 185. 

Lycophron, 173. 

Macaulay, 148, 161, 163. 

Macrobius, 187. 

Magnus, Olaus, 131. 

Marino, 185. 

Marlowe, 33, 134. 

Marvell, 160. 

Masson, 18-29, 131. 

Mazzoni, 17. 

Merrill, 136. 

More, Henry, 158. 

Murray, J. A. H., 135, 144, 148, 160. 

Nares, 145. 

Newton, Thomas, 134, 140, 118, 151, 
154, 155, 156, 182. 

Orm, 122. 

Orosius, 168. 

Orphica, 184. 

Ovid, 27, 120, 133, 136, 141, 147, 151, 
154, 155, 156, 157, 159, 160, 168, 171, 
173, 174, 175, 179, 184, 188, 189. 

Pattison, 135. 

Pausanias, 142. 

Pearce, 160. 

Persius, 27. 

Petrarch, 8, 27. 

Phalereus, 16. 

Pindar, 13, 130, 147, 171, 174, 180. 

Plato, 10, 16, 27, 145, 163, 171, 173, 183, 

187. 
Pliny, 159. 
Plutarch, 134, 143. 
Pope, 175, 181. 
Propertius, 174. 

Quintilian, 141, 163. 

Raleigh, 137. 



INDEX OF AUTHORS. 



201 



Rolfe, 145. 
Ruskin, 133. 

Sallust, 123. 

Scott, 144, 148, 158, 174. 

Seneca, 150, 156. 

Shakespeare, 27, 31, 34, 36, 37, 40, 122, 
124, 125, 126, 128, 129, 134, 138, 142, 
143, 145, 151, 153, 155, 158, 161, 163, 
164, 166, 168, 169, 171, 172, 173, 176, 
177, 178, 180, 181, 183, 184, 189. 

Shelley, 177, 186. 

Sidney, 121, 175. 

Silius Italicus, 152. 

Sophocles, 13, 16, 27, 128, 134, 142, 189. 

Spenser, 27, 31, 34, 43, 123, 129, 132, 
136, 138, 142, 143, 151, 154, 158, 160, 
161, 170, 173, 179, 180, 182, 183, 184, 
185, 186. 

Statins, 144, 150, 179, 183. 

Sylvester, 27. 

Tacitus, 153, 170, 173. 



Tasso, 12, 17, 27, 120, 125, 136, 143, 144, 

152, 158, 169. 
Tennyson, 129, 147, 155, 187. 
Theocritus, 121, 141. 
Thomson, 36. 
Thucydides, 145. 
Todd, 162, 174. 
Trench, 151. 

Virgil, 12, 27, 36, 39, 120, 121, 122, 124, 

127, 128, 129, 130, 132, 133, 136, 137, 

139, 143, 144, 148, 150, 151, 153, 156, 

157, 158, 159, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 

166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 

174, 175, 176, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 
183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 189. 

Webster, Daniel, 143, 157. 
Wordsworth, 36, 43, 137, 176-177, 186. 
Wyclif , 138. 

Xenophanes, 184. 
Xenophon, 10. 



LITER A TURE. 



ENGLISH LITERATURE. 



Of our popular list of classics the editor of the Christian Union recently 
said: " We cannot speak too highly of the Students' Series of English 
Classics" There are nearly thirty books now out and in preparation, and 
it is only necessary to read the list of our editors to gain an intelligent idea 
of the character of the work done. We do not add to this series for the 
sake of increasing the list, but we shall make the same careful selection of 
authors that are to come as we have in those announced. Any book 
announced in this series will be worth the attention of an instructor ift 
English Literature. 



Painter's Introduction to English Literature, includ- 
ing several Classical Works. With Notes. 

By Professor F. V. N. Painter, of Roanoke College, Va. Cloth. 
Pages xviii-l-628. Introduction and mailing price, $1.25. 

Morgan's English and American Literature. 

By Horace H. Morgan, LL.D., formerly of St. Louis High School. 
A practical working text- book for schools and colleges. Pages viii+ 
261. Introduction price, $1.00. 

Introduction to the Study of English Literature. 

In Six Lectures. By Professor George C. S. Southworth. 
Cloth. Pages 194. Introduction price, 75 cents. 

The Students' Series of English Classics. 

PRICES REDUCED. To furnish the educational public with 
well-edited editions of those authors used in, or required for admission 
to, many of the colleges, the Publishers announce this new series. 

The following books are now ready, and others are in preparation. 

They are uniformly bound in cloth, furnished at a comparatively low 
price, and Students of Literature should buy such texts that after use 
in the class room will be found valuable fcr the library. 



LITER A TURE. 

Coleridge's Ancient Mariner 25 cents 

A Ballad Book .50 

The Merchant of Venice 35 

A Midsummer Night's Dream 35 

Edited by Katharine Lee Bates, Wellesley College. 

Matthew Arnold's Sohrab and Rustum 25 „ 

Webster 's First Bunker Hill Oration 25 „ 

Milton's L' Allegro, II Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas ... 25 „ 
Edited by Louise Manning Hodgkins, formerly Professor 
of English Literature, Wellesley College. 

Introduction to the Writings of John Ruskin 50 „ 

Macaulay 's Essay on Lord Clive 35 „ 

Edited by Vida D. Scudder, Wellesley College. 

George Eliot's Silas Marner 35 „ 

Scott's Marmion 35 „ 

Edited by Mary Harriott Norris, Professor, New York. 
Sir Roger de Cover ley Papers from The Spectator .... 35 M 

Edited by A. S. Roe, Worcester, Mass. 
Macaulay' s Second Essay on the Earl of Chatham . . . „ 35 ,„ 
Edited by W. W. Curtis, High School, Pawtucket, R. I. 

Johnson's History of Rasselas 35 „ 

Edited by Fred N. Scott, University of Michigan. 

Macaulay' s Essays on Milton and Addison 35 M 

Edited by James Chalmers, Professor of Literature. 

Carlyle's Diamond Necklace 35 „ 

Edited by W. A. Mozier, High School, Ottawa, 111. 

Joan of Arc, and other selections from De Quincey ... 35 „ 

Edited by Henry H. Belfield, Chicago Manual Training School. 

Selections from Washington Irving 50 „ 

Edited by Isaac Thomas, High School, New Haven, Conn. 

Goldsmith's Traveller and Deserted Village 25 M 

Edited by W. F. Gregory, High School, Hartford, Conn. 

Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America 35 K 

Edited by L. Dupont Syle, University of California. 



LITER A TURE. 



Tennyson's Elaine 25 cents. 

Edited by Fannie More McCauley, Instructor, Winchester 
School, Baltimore. 

Macaulay's Life of Samuel Johnson 25 

Edited by Gamaliel Bradford, Jr., Instructor in English 
Literature, Wellesley and Boston. 

Scott's Lady of the Lake 35 

Edited by James Arthur Tufts, Phillips Exeter Academy. 

Milton's Paradise Lost, Books L and II 35 

Edited by Albert S. Cook, Yale University. 

Pope's Iliad, Books I, VI, XXII, XXIV 35 

Edited by Warwick J. Price, St. Paul's School, Concord, N.H. 

Longfelloza's Evangeline 35 

Edited by Mary Harriott Norris, Professor, New York. 

The Following Volumes are in Preparation: 

SHAKESPEARE'S MACBETH and AS YOU LIKE IT. Edited by 
Katharine Lee Bates, Wellesley College. 

GOLDSMITH'S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. Edited by J. G. Riggs, 
School Superintendent, Plattsburg, N. Y. 

DE QUINCEY'S THE FLIGHT OF A TARTAR TRIBE. Edited by 
Frank T. Baker, Teachers' College, New York City. 

CARLYLE'S ESSAY ON BURNS. Edited by William K. Wickes, 
High School, Syracuse, New York. 

TENNYSON'S THE PRINCESS. Edited by Henry W. Boynton, 
Phillips Academy, Andover, Mass. 

MACAULAY'S LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. Edited by D. D. Pratt, 
High School, Portsmouth, Ohio. 

DRYDEN'S PALAMON AND ARCITE. Edited by W. F. Gregory, 
High School, Hartford, Ct. 

LOWELL'S VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL, and Other Poems. Edited 
by Mabel C. Willard, Instructor, New Haven, Ct. 

We cannot speak too highly of the Students' Series of English 
CLASSICS.— The Christian Ufiion. 



Correspondence invited. 
LEACH, SHEWELL, & SANBORN, 

BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: March 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




